The Pool of St. Branok (31 page)

“Why you, Ben?”

“Because I have a lot to lose, I daresay. In any case, all of those who want peace while they get on with their work are with me. We can’t set up courts of law. We’d have the government after us … and the government doesn’t want to be troubled with petty squabbles on a gold mining estate. They would like to see the whole thing dispersed and the men going back to working in the towns … and then perhaps the government would organize a search for gold. We don’t want that. But we have to keep law and order going. This is where Bruin comes in. If any man is found guilty of a sin against the community, Bruin issues a challenge. He demands they come and meet him in the ring. He then proceeds to punish them in accordance with their sin. It works. No one wants to face up to a pummeling from Bruin.”

“What an extraordinary way of meting out justice!”

“It works. Things have to be a bit unconventional here, you know. But you’ll like Bruin. He’s quite … unusual. He is well over six feet tall; his nose was broken in a fight and it has flattened it somewhat; he’s got what they call a cauliflower ear; but he has the most innocent pair of wide blue eyes that you ever saw. They reflect his innocence. He is naive; he is almost child-like. But you must like Bruin.”

“I feel sure I shall. Now tell me about the Morleys.”

“I am arranging for you to meet them very soon. I have told James about you. He wants you to go up to the house. He’s glad you’re here. He thinks Lizzie might find suitable friends in you and Mrs. Cartwright.”

“Lizzie? It’s the first time I’ve heard of her.”

“Lizzie is his daughter … the apple of his eye.”

“Is there a Mrs. Morley?”

“Not now. She died. There are only old Morley and Lizzie. I’ll show you their house. It’s quite grand in its way. You see, we do have some beautiful houses here.”

“I know. I saw some in Melbourne.”

“Built by the gold millionaires mostly.”

“It is amazing how everyone wants to be rich.”

“Of course they do. Riches mean power, and power I suppose is one of the most desirable objects on earth … men being what they are.”

“You want that don’t you, Ben?”

He nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“And when you have it what will you do with it?”

“I shall see what my immediate needs are.”

“And then you will gratify them?”

“If it is possible, yes.”

“Power … money … they cannot give you everything.”

He looked at me steadily and said: “There are things above them, I know. But you must admit they provide a good deal. Are you happy, Angel?”

“Happy … why yes.”

“Your Gervaise … he is a charming fellow.”

“Yes, he is. He was so wonderful when I told him … about the pool. He made me see it differently. I haven’t worried so much since then.”

“Good. Sounds sensible. And Justin Cartwright? What of him?”

“Oh, he and Morwenna had a romantic match. She ran away with him to Gretna Green. They gave us a shock at the time but that’s over now. I am worried about her though, Ben. She is going to have a baby.”

“Good Heavens! When?”

“In about four months or so I should think. I am anxious about her being here.”

“There is a midwife. She runs the store.”

“I know. I’ve met her. Is she good?”

“I think so. It is a pity Mrs. Cartwright came out. It would have been better for her to have had the child at home … and perhaps come out later.”

“Oh, she wouldn’t have wanted to do that. She knew she was going to have the child before she came. But she didn’t say anything because she thought it would upset everyone. Morwenna is like that. She is completely unselfish.”

“Well, Mrs. Bowles is quite good.”

“I do hope it will be all right.”

“Lizzie Morley was born out here. And there have been others. From what I gathered it was touch and go with Lizzie. Old Morley had been a farmer at home and was down on his luck when he heard how cheap land was going out here … some of it given away. He was obsessed by the idea. He’s told me the story many times. He was a tenant farmer and he had always wanted his own place. He and Alice had been married for some years. There were no children. She was almost forty at the time and had given up hope of ever having any. So they sold up and came out here. Alice wasn’t so keen to come. She was a home lover and home to her was England. Some people are like that, you know. They pine away for the sight of home. They hate the droughts here and they hate the heat; and it can be cold in this part, too. They hate the glare of the sun and they think of misty days and cool sunshine and the blessed rain. They pine away. Alice wasn’t as bad as that and naturally she wanted to be where her husband was and she made a home for him in this country.”

“What of Lizzie?”

“Oh, Lizzie wasn’t born then. I don’t know what it was … the Australian air … the change of everything … who can say? They settled in, bought their bit of land with their savings. It was true, the government here was almost giving it away. They wanted settlers of James Morley’s kind … good, steady, hard-working people, mingling with the convict stock which had come out in the first place. Everything seemed to be working well … and then Alice was going to have a child.”

“They must have been delighted.”

“They were. It was just what they needed.”

“What happened?”

“Alice was no longer young, as I told you. She was turned forty actually. There was misgiving. Everyone was saying she was too old to have children. But she came through, and there was general rejoicing when Lizzie was born. They adored the child. I heard all this when I came here. You can’t keep secrets living close as we do. I think Alice had a fall when she was holding the child. I don’t know whether it was that or not. No one does. But Lizzie didn’t grow up quite like other girls.”

“You mean she is crippled?”

“Oh no … not crippled. It’s just that she is a little … simple. She’s practical enough. She nursed her mother when she was ill. But there is a kind of innocence about her as though she hasn’t really grown up. She is a sweet girl. People are fond of her. She is good and gentle … but a little childish. She was wonderful looking after her mother. That was very sad. Alice was very ill for some months. This happened when Lizzie was in her early teens. It was some sort of growth. There was no hope really. There wouldn’t have been even if they had been at home, but you can imagine what it was like here. It was a very painful death and Lizzie nursed her mother throughout. She died and there were only the two of them. Poor James. He was heartbroken. He turned all his affection to Lizzie. He was already doing very well at that time. He had worked hard and it was beginning to show results. Lizzie was a good housekeeper. It was just that she was slow. He sent to England for a governess for her who taught her to read and write. The governess said she was a dear girl but she just could not teach her much beyond that. But she could sew, do the garden and she looked after her father’s comforts wonderfully. If you are kind to Lizzie she repays with genuine affection.”

“She sounds a very nice person.”

“Nice yes, that’s Lizzie. It’s a shame that she is as she is.”

“I look forward to meeting her.”

“It will be arranged. What about now? Why don’t we call on our way back?”

“I’d like that.”

“It’s pleasant here. I’d like to stay for a long time … talking to you.”

“I like it too, Ben.”

He looked at me and smiled and for a time neither of us spoke.

I felt a little uneasy. Ben was so often in my thoughts. I rose and said: “Yes, I do want to see Lizzie and her father and if we are going to do that today we should be going now.”

I went to Foxey and mounted her. We rode off in silence for Ben was thoughtful, too.

The Morley house was quite large. It had been built in the mock-Gothic style so fashionable at home. It gave an impression of solidity. It was surrounded by gardens which had obviously been very carefully tended, and as we rode up to the house I saw a girl with a basket on her arm; she had been snipping the dead flowers from the bushes.

“It’s Lizzie,” cried Ben. “Lizzie, come and meet Mrs. Mandeville.”

Lizzie gave a little cry of pleasure and came towards me. Some of the dead flowerheads fell from the basket. She paused and looked at them as though puzzling as to whether she should pick them up or come on to us.

“You can pick those up later,” said Ben. “First come and meet our new friend.”

She nodded as though pleased to have the problem solved for her; she came towards us smiling.

She had the face of a young child, quite unlined, wide blue eyes and sleek fair hair in a plait which was wound round her head.

Ben took her hand and she gave him a smile of contentment as though she were very glad to see him.

“Mrs. Mandeville … Angelet,” he said.

“Angelet,” she repeated after him.

“And, Angelet, this is Lizzie about whom I have told you.”

I took her hand and she gave me that rather lovely innocent smile.

“Is your father at home, Lizzie?” asked Ben.

She nodded.

“Perhaps we could all go and see him, eh? Ah, here is Mrs. Wilder.”

Mrs. Wilder, a rather stern-faced woman in, I imagined, her late thirties, had emerged from the house and was coming towards us.

“Good day, Mrs. Wilder,” said Ben. “This is Mrs. Mandeville. I was telling you and Mr. Morley about the new arrivals, you remember.”

“Of course, Mr. Lansdon,” said Mrs. Wilder. “Welcome to Golden Creek, Mrs. Mandeville. Mr. Morley will be delighted to see you. Do come in.”

I had not heard of Mrs. Wilder before but I guessed by the manner in which she went to Lizzie and took her arm that she was a sort of housekeeper or companion to Lizzie.

“Lizzie has been wanting to meet you,” said Mrs. Wilder. “Haven’t you, Lizzie?”

“Oh yes … yes,” said Lizzie.

Her candid gaze met mine and I returned her smile.

We were taken into a hall. It was hung with prints of horses mostly. There was a heavy oak chest over which was an ornate mirror in a heavy brass frame. Mrs. Wilder knocked at a door and called out: “Visitors, Mr. Morley. Mr. Lansdon has brought Mrs. Mandeville.”

“Come along in,” called a voice.

We went into a room which seemed full of heavy furniture. On the mantelshelf where there were many ornaments was a daguerreotype picture of a woman in a tight black bodice and a voluminous skirt. Her hair was drawn down at the sides of her face to a knot at the back and I could see in her a faint resemblance to Lizzie. I guessed this was Alice Morley, for the picture had pride of place among the vases.

In a big armchair, a table beside him, on which stood a glass of ale, sat James Morley.

“Hello, James,” said Ben. “I’ve brought one of our newcomers to meet you. This is Mrs. Mandeville.”

He was about to make a great effort and rise, but Ben stopped him. “Don’t get up, James. Mrs. Mandeville understands.”

“I’m a bit stiff in my joints these days,” said James Morley. “But welcome to Golden Creek. I’m glad to see you.”

“Do sit down,” said Mrs. Wilder. “I daresay you would like some refreshment. Wine … or ale …”

We both agreed that we would like a little wine and Mrs. Wilder went away to get it.

“Now,” said James Morley. “What do you think of Golden Creek?”

Ben laughed.

“A difficult question for Mrs. Mandeville to answer politely, James. She has just come from fashionable London.”

“A little different here, eh?”

I said that indeed it was but that I was finding Golden Creek very interesting.

“People come and go. I should never have come …” He looked at the picture on the mantelshelf.

Ben said quickly: “We could all say that at times.” He turned to me. “Mr. Morley has one of the most prosperous properties in Victoria.”

His eyes brightened a little at that. “Good grazing land,” he said. “I was one of the lucky ones. I was here before the others came. Why, when I first came here there wasn’t a homestead for a good many miles.”

The wine had arrived and Mrs. Wilder served it.

“We met Lizzie doing something with the flowers,” said Ben.

“Lizzie’s always doing something with the flowers,” said her father indulgently. “Aren’t you, Lizzie?”

The girl nodded, smiling happily.

“And she’s done wonders with them, too, hasn’t she, Mrs. Wilder?”

“I never thought,” said Mrs. Wilder, “to see them grow as they do. You have green fingers, Lizzie.”

Lizzie laughed happily.

“So you’re out here to find gold, Mrs. Mandeville,” said James Morley.

“Yes,” I said, “and that seems to be the usual reason why people are here.”

“A wild goose chase, I reckon.”

“But some people catch the goose,” added Ben.

James Morley looked at him and cocked his eye on one side. “And if anyone’s going to do that, I’ll lay a sovereign it’ll be you, Ben Lansdon.”

“It is what I intend,” said Ben.

“The quest for gold,” said the old man. “If only we were content with what we’ve got and didn’t go stretching out for more.”

“The world would just stand still,” said Ben. “Now, James, we’ve had this argument before.” He turned to me. “James thinks I ought to go in for grazing. He reckons it’s the sensible thing to do.”

“Well, look how it’s turned out for me. Look at my land … and who’s to say I’ve finished yet. There’s money in sheep. There’s money in cattle. I reckon I’ve got the finest house here … barring none.”

“Well, mine is not exactly a hovel,” said Ben. “Bear me out, Angel, Mrs. Wilder, Lizzie …”

Lizzie laughed. “It is a lovely house,” she said. I saw her father’s eyes on her. They were fond and a little sad.

“Tell me,” went on James Morley, “what is happening in London. We don’t get much news out here.”

I tried to think of what had happened. England seemed far away. I told him of the death of the Prince Consort and how sad the Queen was; then I wished I hadn’t because I saw him look at the picture on the mantelshelf.

I searched my mind. There had been trouble with the cotton workers in Lancashire. Not a very pleasant topic. The Prince of Wales was going to marry Princess Alexandra of Denmark and there was Civil War in America.