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Authors: William Stuart Long

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BOOK: The Gallant
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He knew, Johnny thought despondently.

Kitty had made her feelings

abundantly clear. Seated at the long, candle-lit table, as the others talked, he watched her lovely, glowing face, heard her laughter, and observed how the Broome family fell, in turn, victims to her charm. Even his hard-headed uncle William was not immune to it, and the two boys, Angus and Lachlan, were frankly enchanted, vying with each other for her attention,

 

William Stuart Long

ea

ger to serve her. Only Luke, seated beside the little deaf and dumb girl, Jane, had no eyes for anyone else. They communicated in a strange, close-knit silence, with just their lips moving, but they seemed, to Johnny’s surprise, to understand each other without any need for words. Luke, he reflected almost enviously, had found the cure for his heartbreak, although probably it would be a while before he became fully aware of it.

After the meal, Kitty went upstairs to see her brother back to bed, and she stayed with him-to the evident disappointment of her newest conquests, who eventually, despairing of her return, sought their own beds.

With his aunt playing a soft accompaniment on the piano; Johnny stayed talking to Luke and his uncle, exchanging news, William plying him with questions concerning the rest of the family in Sydney, and Luke anxious to hear all that Johnny could tell him of the doings of the Tempests at Pengallon.

“I hated leaving them, you know,” Luke asserted.

“But somehow I could not stay at Pengallon, after Elizabeth died. And I suppose it’s odd that I’ve been able to settle here, but-was He glanced, smiling, at William Broome and then across to the piano, where Jane was turning the pages of music as Dorothea played. “Once I had the gold fever and all I dreamed of was making a big strike. Then I thought I had the sea in my blood and found I hadn’t. I was born a farm boy, and that’s all I want now-to work with sheep and cattle and end my wandering. But when you go back to Sydney, Johnny, tell Rick and Katie Tempest, and Edmund and Dickon, next time you see them, that they are always in my thoughts-and my prayers, too, come to that-even if I don’t come back.”

“I’ll tell them,” Johnny promised. “If and when I’m able to go back, Luke.”

Luke did not pretend to misunderstand him.

He asked, lowering his voice, “You’re still going on with the hunt?”

“Yes. I gave my word. I’ll see it through.”

He would lose Kitty if he did not, Johnny reflected wryly. And there was Michael. He thought suddenly of the diary he had found, in the empty prison on Norfolk Island, and the emotions it had aroused in him, the pity and … yes, the admiration.

After all this time, he wanted to meet Big Michael face to face. Quite

apart from his obligation to Kitty, he knew that he wanted to see Michael Cadogan set free.

“He is a very fine man, Michael,” Luke said unexpectedly. “Whatever they may say about him now, Johnny, he’s no killer. He’s a very gallant gentleman. I spent quite a bit of time with him, and I

know,

without a shadow of a doubt, that’s what he is.”

Luke hesitated, glancing across at William Broome, who had fallen asleep in his armchair, lulled by his wife’s soft playing and the pleasant heat of the big log fire. “Mr. Broome can’t help, not in his position, but maybe I can. There’s a lot to do here, and we’re short of labor … all the same, I’m sure he’ll let me take time off, if I ask him.”

“Time off, Luke? Do you mean-was

Luke nodded, “I mean I’ll come with you to Urquhart Falls tomorrow. I don’t think Mrs.

Higgins can tell you much, but I’m acquainted with a few folk in the town now who just might know more. And besides-was He smiled. “You need me, don’t you? I know Big Michael by sight, Johnny, and he’d recognize me. You might need a go-between, if he is

with the Lawless Gang.”

His suggestion was a practical one, and Johnny thanked him.

Luke brushed the thanks aside. “If you do catch up with him, how do you plan to organize his escape?

New South Wales first, I take it, and then a ship from Sydney, back to Ireland? It’s not safe for him to stay here, in this area.”

“Yes, I realize that. A coach from Bendigo, probably, to Also-bury for a start. We might have to backtrack or take a roundabout route, but depending on circumstances, I think a coach is the best idea. But that’s not a hard and fast decision, and I haven’t discussed it fully with Kitty or, of course, with Pat.” Johnny shrugged. “It depends to a large extent

where

we find Michael. A dash on horseback might be necessary.”

Luke nodded his understanding. “What puzzles and, to be honest, what worries me is why Michael didn’t do what he told me he intended to do. He said he was going to the new goldfields north of here, and though I know it wasn’t the best time of year to start prospecting in the high country, quite a few diggers do stick it out. And Michael is tough-cold and snow wouldn’t have put him off, I’m sure of it. And he would have

 

William Stuart Long

been safe enough in a diggers’ camp. But instead he joined up with this gang of bushrangers and started robbing banks, risking his neck and his freedom. It’s out of character. And it means that the royal pardon your wife and Pat managed to obtain for him isn’t worth the paper it’s written on. If he’s caught, he’ll be tried for robbery under arms.”

“He didn’t know about the pardon,” Johnny defended. “He ran from Port Arthur before we could tell him it had been granted. Come to that, Kitty and Pat did not know until some time after they came out here. They set the wheels in motion, left the lawyers to lodge an appeal, but they had no way of knowing that the appeal would be successful. In fact, I don’t think they expected it to succeed.”

Luke studied his face thoughtfully. “What was Michael deported for-what crime was he charged with, I mean? He was a political prisoner, wasn’t he?”

“He was charged with high treason.”

“But he wasn’t guilty?”

“No,” Johnny said. “The charges, according to the information I have, were brought maliciously by an English military officer who owed him money for gaming debts.” He gave the details Kitty had supplied and saw that Luke’s eyes were bright with anger.

“And for that the poor fellow has endured years of torture! Years on Norfolk Island under John Price, and then Port Arthur, where they never let him out of the chain gang-except when the overseers arranged an illegal prizefight, with Michael as their champion!”

Johnny stared at him. “God, did he

tell you that?”

“Yes, he did.”

“Then a small wonder he absconded,” Johnny said.

“I don’t think that was why,” Luke answered.

“He had another reasona very strong one, Johnny. He never told me what it was, but when we went ashore together in Geelong, he seemed suddenly to change. He bought a newspaper, I remember, and something he read in it seemed-well, to take the wind out of his sails completely. I’d suggested he should go up north to the goldfields with me, but he had refused, at first. Said he had urgent business to attend to, something he’d promised him

self for years that he’d do, if he were free. But after reading whatever it was in the newspaper, he changed his mind and said he would join me after all. I remember his words. He said, “I’ve nothing better to do now-I got here too late. So if you want me to partner you, I will.” Do

you

have any idea what he was talking about, Johnny?”

Johnny considered the question and then shook his head.

“No, I’ve no idea at all,

Luke.” His host, he saw, had awakened, and the piano had fallen silent. His aunt smiled across at him.

“Bed, John? I’ve put you and your wife in our guest room at the head of the stairs. If you would like to come with me, I’ll show you the way.”

The room, when he entered it, was empty, the big double bed unoccupied. Kitty, he thought bitterly, preferred her brother’s company to his.

At pains to conceal his resentment, Johnny bade his aunt good night and lost no time in undressing and climbing into the warm, comfortable bed. But, physically tired though he was, he slept fitfully, his peace of mind disturbed by a nightmare in which he had a confused vision of his sister Jenny running barefooted through the streets of an Indian city, with a howling mob at her heels. She was crying out to him to save her, but before he could set his seemingly leaden limbs in motion, the mob caught up with her. In his dream, he lost sight of her in the melee, and when the crowd of turbaned natives parted, it was not her lifeless body he saw but that of a big, dark-haired man, with a gunshot wound in his chest, whom he realized was Michael Cadogan.

The dream was so vivid that, when he wakened from it, his whole body was bathed in perspiration and he was calling Jenny’s name aloud. Later, when he had again drifted into sleep, he became vaguely conscious of a movement beside him. It held no significance until, with the coming of daylight, he roused himself wearily and saw that Kitty was asleep on the other side of the bed. She was fully clothed and had her back to him with-absurdly-a pillow erected as a barrier between them.

Johnny swore softly and sat up. If his wife heard him, she gave no indication of having done so, and after a minute or two

 

William Stuart Long

he left the bed they had so briefly shared and, donning shirt and breeches, went in search of water with which to wash and shave. Kitty was gone when he returned to the bedroom; and on his way downstairs in response to a call from his uncle to join the family for breakfast, he heard her voice and Pat’s, coming from her brother’s sickroom.

An hour later, Luke brought their saddled horses to the yard at the rear of the house, and, farewells and thanks duly offered, the three of them set off for Urquhart Falls, Kitty riding

alongside Luke, and himself behind them, leading the packhorse.

Lily was in the kitchen, preparing vegetables for the evening meal, when she learned of Dingo’s duplicity.

Nelly came storming in and harshly bade her abandon her task and go and pack her bags.

“You can get to hell out of here,” Nelly added. “You an’ the other tarts. You won’t be wanted no more.”

“But …” Lily gestured to the bowl of freshly peeled potatoes, unable to understand the reason for the old woman’s sudden outburst. “The boys will be hungry when they come back. I thought-was “It don’t matter a tinker’s cuss what you thought, lass. The boys won’t be comin’ back-they’ll be on their way to gaol, an’ good riddance! This tavern belongs to me and

Mister

Carter now, an’ we’ll be runnin’ it as a respectable house from now on, not a hidey-hole for a bunch of so.in’ bushrangers an’ their fancy women! You can tell them other cats to be on their way. I want “em out by noon.”

Lily stared at her, scarcely believing the evidence of her own ears. Nelly had always been so servile, so eager to please, the respect she had shown to Billy Lawless transferred to Michael after Billy’s death. And Dingo, for all his sullen grumbling, had been the same, touching his forelock and doing what any of them told him to do. But …

She drew a swift, startled breath, remembering his previous absence with the horse and buggy and the limp excuse he had made for it. Slugger McFee William Stuart Long

did not really care what he drank, so long as it was liquor-he only demanded whiskey to prove that he was of Scottish ancestry. Yet Dingo had insisted he had gone to replenish the Magpie’s stock of whiskey because Slugger had complained!

“You got your money, ain’t you?” Nelly pursued unpleasantly. “Poor Billy’s share, an” that was a tidy sum. A whole lot more’n he saw fit to leave to us. An’ we didn’t get the Magpie neither-by rights, Billy should’ve left us

the Magpie. If he had, maybe me an’ Mr.

Carter wouldn’t have felt so bad about things.”

“Did he, did Ding-Mr. Carter inform on them?”

Lily managed, in a choked voice. “Did he inform on Michael for the reward?”

“Use your head, girl-o’ course he did. An “undred an” fifty quid-you don’t come by that very often these days. An’ there’s another fifty to add to that, if Michael’s caught in Urquhart Falls. That feller Brownlow give his word it’d be paid.” Nelly gave vent to a chuckle. “They’ll be waitin’ for “em at the bank-police an”

townsfolk, the lot of “em. Michael won’t have a chance in hell, so you’d best forget him an” find yourself another bloke.”

Lily’s heart sank. She believed it now; Nelly had made no bones about what Dingo had done. She must be sure of the outcome to boast of it openly. Michael and the others were riding into a trap, and … oh, God help them, if they entered the bank and found armed men awaiting them! Mr.

Brownlow had been a police inspector-he would be well versed in the ways in which traps were set and sprung, and Dingo would have given him all the information he needed to spring this one.

And there was no time now, alas, to warn Michael.

He and the others had left almost twelve hours ago, aiming to enter Urquhart Falls just after noon, to reconnoiter, as Michael had put it, and hold up the bank once they were satisfied that the coast was clear. Ideally, Michael had told her, they would wait until dusk, since this would make their escape easier and discourage pursuit, but it might not be possible to wait that long.

If they did, though-Lily looked at Nelly Carter, hate burning in her eyes-she might

get there in time. It was about thirty-five miles from the Magpie to Urquhart Falls, following the road-a cart track, in reality, scarred by the wheels of the diggers’ wagons and deep in mud this time of year-so they would not have been able to make much speed.

There was another, more direct route, which Billy had once shown her, across country. He had described it as “the way the crow flies” and said that it cut a good twelve miles off the distance to the township. It offered a chance, if only a slight one, to a rider on a good horse, who was prepared to risk his neck by covering it at full gallop.

She was by no means an expert horsewoman, but she could ride and … Lily tensed. There was the half-wild stallion Billy had bought, in one of his few legitimate dealings, from a farmer in the locality, intending it for his own use. But it had turned out to be a vicious animal, and he had never used it. Tich Knight, who had a way with horses, had been trying to tame it-Lily was not sure with what result-and she shuddered apprehensively as a desperate plan took shape in her mind. The stallion was fast-faster than any of the other horses they kept in the Magpie’s stables-and if all she had to do were mount it and set its head in the direction of Urquhart Falls, then it would be her best, perhaps her only chance of catching up with Michael before the raid on Brownlow’s bank took place.

BOOK: The Gallant
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