CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
LEATHER SPEAKS OUT.
Another day, it seemed as if Sorrel felt with his master, and took himstraight to a fresh part of the great sheep run, near where the vastgorge was fenced at its edge with mighty trees, beneath one of whichLeather was seated, looking hard and stern.
Nic was very thoughtful that day. There was something he wanted to askthe convict, but he always shrank from satisfying his curiosity; andthis time he showed that he had something upon his mind so plainly, thatLeather after their abrupt salutations had passed, said:
"Not well, sir?"
"Yes, quite well. Why?"
"Looked queer, sir."
"Oh, nothing," said Nic hastily, for he had made up his mind to questionthe man, and now the opportunity had come he felt that he could notspeak.
"I was thinking about you a little while ago, sir."
"About me? Why?"
"You were saying the other day that you had seen so few snakes. I'veseen four this morning. Two of them are poisonous; you may as well havea shot at them."
"How do you know that they are poisonous?"
"Partly from the bad character they have, sir, partly from the shape ofthe head."
"Let's see, I've heard something about that before: poisonous snakeshave a spade-shaped head, haven't they?"
"That's what they call it, sir. It is really a great swelling at theback of the jaws on either side of the neck. This swelling is made bythe poison bags which communicate with their hollow fangs. You'll seeif you shoot the big gentleman I saw crawling back into his hole thismorning. I dare say he's out again now, to be in the hot sun. Why,what's the matter, Master Nic?"
"Matter?"
"Yes, sir; you keep going off in a dreamy way, and not listening."
Nic frowned and was silent.
"I beg your pardon, sir; it is like my impertinence to ask you. Iforget sometimes, when you are ready to treat me like a human being,that I am only a convict."
"Don't take it like that," said Nic hurriedly. "It was only because Iwas thinking, Leather."
"Yes, sir, I see: some little trouble at home."
"Oh, no!" cried Nic, ready to blurt out everything now. "You see I likeyou, Leather."
The man's eyes flashed and then softened for a moment, while his lipsquivered; but his hard, cynical, bitter aspect and tones came back--themanner born of years of misery and degradation, and he cried mockingly:
"Why? Because I behaved like a brute to you, and made believe to throwyou down into that gully?"
"Don't bring that up," cried Nic angrily; "and don't talk in that way,Leather. It isn't you. It's only put on."
"Indeed," said the man bitterly. "Well, I didn't put it on, sir. Itwas fate."
"There, I didn't like to speak to you," continued Nic; "but I must now.I've long wanted to, for of course I can't help seeing how different youare from Brookes and old Sam. You are always showing me that you are aman of good education, and what a deal you know. It makes me ashamedsometimes."
"Why?" said Leather sternly.
"To ask you to do all kinds of rough work when I feel that you arebetter educated than I am--that you must have been quite a gentleman."
"Ah, don't, boy!" cried Leather passionately, and with his faceconvulsed. "For Heaven's sake hold your tongue."
"I can't now," cried Nic, as excitedly. "I feel as if I must know. Ido like you, Leather--I do really; and it worries me. I think of it atnight when I go to bed, and it makes me wild to hear Brookes talk to youas he does."
"Brookes is an honest man, sir; I'm a convict," said Leather bitterly.
"There you are, going back to your old way!" cried Nic; "and it isn'tfair, after I've told you I liked you."
The convict caught the boy's hand, and his eyes softened again; but hedropped the hand and drew back, sending a pang through Nic, who feltthat he must have been guilty of some terrible crime, and they stoodlooking in each other's eyes for some little time. Then the boy spokein a husky whisper--for he said to himself, "Poor chap, he must be verysorry for it now,"--"What was it you did, Leather?"
"Nothing."
"Then why were you sent out here?"
Nic started, and repented having spoken, for the convict drew himselfup, with his eyes flashing and his face convulsed by rage, scorn, andindignation.
"Why was I sent out here, boy?" he raged: "because a jury of myfellow-countrymen said I was guilty, and the judge told me that Ideserved the greater punishment because I--a man of education, holdingso high and responsible a position, and who ought to have known better--was worse than a common ignorant thief; and that he must make an exampleof me, that the world might see how government servants found no favourwhen they sinned. He said I had had a fair trial, that my countrymencondemned me, and that he quite agreed with their verdict; and hesentenced me to twenty-one years' transportation,--he might as well havesaid for life."
Nic stood looking at him in pain and misery, and the convict beganpacing up and down in the agony evoked by this dragging up of the past.
"I'm sorry I spoke," faltered Nic.
"No, no: I'm glad. It is like stabbing me, but if I bleed, boy, it is arelief. Transportation for twenty-one years, and to what a life ofhorror, misery, and despair! Companion to the greatest scoundrels andwretches that ever breathed; loathed and hated by them, because I wasnot what they, called their sort. Then, when sent out for goodbehaviour as an assigned servant, hated and scorned and trampled upon byevery honest man. You have seen--you know. The convict from the chaingang, a branded felon. Nic, boy!--I beg your pardon, sir," he criedbitterly--"Master, your slave wonders sometimes that he is alive. Itell you I've prayed night after night for death, but it would not come:no spear, no blinding stroke from the sun, no goring by the half-wildbullocks which have chased me; no fall when I have desperately climbeddown the side of that gorge. No! spite of all risk I have grownstronger, healthier, as you see--healthier in body, but more and morediseased in mind."
He stopped and threw himself down upon his breast, to bury his face inhis hands; and just then there came a low, chuckling sound, as oflaughter, from one of the great grey kingfishers in the tree above them,followed by a wild, dissonant, shrieking chorus from a flock of parrots,as if in defiance at the cruel laugh.
"I don't mind your speaking to me as you did, Leather," said Nic atlast, as he turned his head aside to hide his emotion, and he sat downto watch his beautiful horse quietly cropping the grass, thinking howmuch happier the dumb beast was. "I only mind when you talk in yourbitter way.--I'm sorry for you."
"God bless you, my lad!" said the convict, in smothered tones: "I knowit. You've shown it to me a score of times. My life has not been thesame since you came here."
"And I can't help seeing that you are sorry too. How could you havedone so bad a thing?"
"I? Did that!" cried Leather, springing up on one arm. "I tell you Iam innocent as a child. Dominic Braydon, mine was a high position, andlarge sums of money passed through my hands. There came a day when aheavy amount was missing. It was gone, I could not explain how.Everything seemed against me. My explanations were ridiculed, and untilI had been out here a couple of years I could not see the light. Itcame one day, though, like a flash--when it was too late."
Nic looked at him inquiringly.
"My subordinate was the guilty man: the meek, amiable wretch who brokedown in the witness-box and wept at being forced to tell all he knew.Even I believed and liked him at the time--poor weak fool that I was!If it imposed on me, who listened to every word he spoke, seeking forsome way of escape, how could I wonder that judge, jury, and counselwere deceived? But it was too late when I read the truth, and that tosave himself he sacrificed me--me who had helped him in every way."
"Then you really did not take this money?" cried Nic.
"Not one penny. I? But, there, why did you drag this all from me, boy?You made me speak. I do not say it to excite your sympathy. It is myfate, and I
have tried to bear it like a man. I have borne it like aman, boy, though it has made me hard, callous, and brutal. Dead to allwho knew and loved me, I have still lived, thinking that perhaps someday the truth may rise like the sun and throw its light around. Then Iknow it will be time to join the only one who believed me what I am."
"And who was that?" said Nic hoarsely.
"She who was to have been my wife. It was her death."
There was the hot stillness of the Australian midday around them, andfor some time neither spoke.
Then all at once Leather sprang to his feet.
"There, sir," he said, "you are the first who has heard my tale. Thelaw has branded me a convict, and I can only say `Please let all this beas if it had never been said.' And yet I don't know," he continued,with his eyes softening; "it has done me good. Still I don't ask you tobelieve me, sir. There is plenty of deceit out here, and I have metsome clever actors of innocent parts in the different gangs."
"But I do believe you," cried Nic earnestly--"every word. Oh, I feltthat you could not have been so bad."
"Thank you, my lad," said the convict, smiling; and Nic thought what afine, handsome, manly fellow he was when his face lit up. "No: I cannotshake hands. Some day, perhaps. I should like to help you, not dragyou down. It is master and servant, you know. Yes," he added, after apause, as he gazed earnestly in Nic's eyes, "you do believe me. There,I shall work more easily now, for life is brighter than it was."
He sprang to his feet now, and moved to go, but came back.
"We were forgetting the execution of the poisonous snake, sir," he said,with a little laugh. "This way."
"No," said Nic quietly; "let it live another day."
He walked to his horse, lifted the rein and threw it over the animal'sneck, then sprang upon its back.
"Master Nic!"
"Yes."
"This is our secret, sir, and you must keep your place."
"Secret? Why shouldn't I tell my mother and father that you werecondemned for that which you did not do?"
"I'll tell you, sir," cried Leather. "Because they cannot listen withyour ears, nor see me with your eyes."
"My father is everything that is just," said Nic proudly, "and my motherall that is gentle and true."
"God bless her! yes, my boy," said the convict softly; "but if youspeak, Mrs Braydon, knowing me for what I am, will say, `This man haswormed himself into my son's confidence--he has obtained an influenceover him that is not healthy--he had better go,' and I should beexchanged, Master Nic, as they would exchange a horse or bullock. Don'tspeak, sir, and have me sent away!"
Nic looked in the pleading eyes, and saw that the man's lips werequivering from the strong emotion which animated him.
"Our secret, then," he said; and at a touch of the heel the horsebounded away, with its rider feeling that every word the convict hadspoken must be the truth.
First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales Page 24
