First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

  BROOKES STRIKES BACK.

  "That's better!" said old Sam. "The masters both out, and we're havinga nice day here."

  Leather stood as if turned to stone.

  "Let's look at you," continued the old man, as he roughly spun Brookesround. "Where's yer 'ankycher?"

  Brookes made a movement to seize the axe, but old Sam kicked it away.

  "Let it alone, stoopid! What did you want to tell that lie for? Hedidn't hit you wi' that."

  "I swear he did," cried Brookes fiercely.

  "Then you'd swear anything," said Sam, binding up the rough cut. "Butdo you think I'm a fool? Any one can see that wasn't made with the edgeof a chopper. Did he give you that lovely crack in the mouth with thechopper too?"

  "I'll let him see--I'll let him see!"

  "I wouldn't till I'd washed my face. Sarves you right: you're allusletting out at somebody. If I warn't a nat'ral angel in temper I shouldha' let you have it years ago."

  "I'll let him see--I'll let him see," muttered Brookes savagely.

  "Better shake hands like a man," said old Sam.

  "Convict or no convict, he's only give you what you asked for."

  "I'll let him see," snarled Brookes; and he went off toward the stable.

  "Gone there to one of the buckets," growled old Sam. "I was going totake you there. Here, let's have a look at your head."

  "Oh, it's nothing--nothing," said Leather hastily.

  "Nothing! when you're bleeding like a pig. Come along to the bothy, andlet's bathe and tie it up. Why, Leather, this looks as if he'd used theaxe! Reg'lar clean cut."

  "No, it was with the fork handle. There, it will do me good. Let outsome of the hot, mad blood."

  "Ay," said old Sam, guiding him, for he staggered, to the men's bothy,and bathing and tying up the wound. "It's a pity, my lad. I wish youhadn't hit back, for you see if he should turn nasty and complain--"

  Leather looked at him wildly.

  "And him like that, there's no knowing what might come."

  The convict uttered a groan, and caught the old man's arm.

  "I'll say all I know, my lad; but you see--"

  "Yes, yes," said Leather hoarsely, "I know"; and he sat there on a blockof wood which served as a stool, while the old gardener finished thedressing.

  "There, that's a spontanous bit o' grafting," he said, "and--'Ullo!what's that mean?"

  He turned to the doorway, through which they could see Brookes mountedupon one of the horses and cantering straight away.

  "Leather, my lad," said the old man sharply, "he's our fellow-servant,but he's a cur. What'll you do, my lad? He's gone to Dillon's, for asilver pound; he'll make up his tale, and it means the cat."

  Leather sank back against the wall, and gazed wildly toward the house.

  "If it was me I'd take to the bush, and--"

  "What! not face it out!" cried the convict fiercely. "Own that I was inthe wrong! Not if they flog me and send me back to the gang."

  The sudden excitement passed away, and the convict sank sidewise to thefloor, perfectly insensible, for he had fainted dead away.

  "And I thought I was going to have a good quiet day's gardening!" saidold Sam. "There's hundreds o' things wants doing badly, and I'm 'bligedto give up my time to cultivate convicts. I wish to goodness the masterwas at home; then all this mess wouldn't ha' took place."

  But as the old man muttered he kept on acting. Taking some fresh water,he bathed the convict's temples and tried hard to revive him.

  "Give you a clean face if it don't give you a clean character, my lad.I don't like you because you're a convict, that's all. You're a good,manly sort o' chap, and if you'd ha' been a honest man I should ha' saidyou were as good a fellow to work as ever was. Nothing never comesamiss to you, and you and me never had a word in our lives. But you seeyou are one of the gang and a blackguard and a thief; not as you wasever a blackguard here, nor stole so much as one o' my taters, which Iwill say has been big enough and fine enough to tempt any man as wasdigging 'em, as you was. I know they tempted me, Leather, for I took adozen nubbly ones and roasted 'em three at a time in a bit o' fire asBungarolo made for me; but then I did grow them taters and had a sort o'right in 'em."

  Old Sam left off talking to the insensible man, and looked at himanxiously as he kept on bathing his face.

  "I don't want to be hard on you, my lad, even if you are a convict.`Temptation sore long time you bore,' p'r'aps before you took it, andyour head maybe wasn't as strong as your hands. But I say, are youa-coming to? None o' that nonsense! Here! Hi! Leather! Don't die!Don't be so stoopid as that just for a whack on the head as'll heal upin a fortnit."

  He gave the insensible man a shake in his excitement, but it made noimpression.

  "What am I to do? If I goes and tells 'em at the house it'll frightenthe women, and they can't do no good. They'd want to burn feathersunder his nose. Here, Leather, rouse up, man; don't be a fool! D'yerhear? Wait till you get back to town, where you can be buried properly;don't die here!"

  Sam began to mop and splash the water almost frantically, as themotionless features before him seemed to grow hard and stem.

  "Well, I thought you had more good stuff in you, Leather--that I did,"said the old man piteously. "I don't wish no harm to nobody, but I wishto goodness you were old Brookes lying here instead o' yourself, forhe's the wiciousest warmint as ever lived. I never see things go soorkard: it's worse than locusts or blight. Master going off like that,too, just when he's wanted. Poor lad! and I can't do nothing for you,or I would. There, I don't care what you done, Leather," he said,"convict or no convict, I forgive you, whatever you did, and here's myfist."

  He took the strong labour-hardened hand in his, and then dropped ithastily, for just as he pressed it there was a deep sigh and the convictopened his eyes to stare blankly in the old man's face. Then, asrecollection came back, he struggled up into a sitting position, rose tohis feet, and stood with one hand resting against the boarded side ofthe bothy.

  "Come, that's better," said old Sam. "You're a-coming round now. Itell you what you do: just you lie down in your bunk and get a goodsleep; you'll be all right then. I began to think as you'd had a lobjust a bit too hard. Here, what are you going to do?"

  "Go on with my work," said the convict.

  "Yah! That's foolishness; you can't do it, Leather."

  "I must," said the man gravely. "Thank you for what you've done,Samson. It was not true. I did not raise the axe against Brookes."

  "I know that, my lad. He'd say anything when he's nasty. But I'm sorryyou hit back--very sorry."

  "Yes, I know," said the convict; and he walked slowly out of the lowwooden building, and five minutes later the regular _chop, chop_ of theaxe was heard, and the rattle of rails as they were laid back in a heap.

  "Well," said old Sam, "that's better than him being as I thought Isuppose I may go on with my work now, and get that garden in a bit oforder. Well, all I've got to say is this: if Brooky's gone to lay acomplaint before the magistrate he's no man."

  Man or no man, midday had not long passed before old Sam, as he raisedhimself up from his digging to give his back a bit of a rest, caughtsight of a flash of something bright, and there was another flash--thesun glinting from the barrel of a gun; and turning his eyes, there abouta mile away, spurring across country, he made out a party of fivemounted men advancing at a trot.

  The old man drove his spade savagely into the ground and trotted out ofthe garden and round to the wood-yard, where Leather was going on slowlyand laboriously with his rail trimming.

  "Leather, my lad," he said, in a quick whisper, "they're a-coming overthe hill: hadn't you better go off for a month or two?"

  "To be hunted down by the dogs and blacks?" said the convict bitterly."No, old man; I shall get Justice Day, here or--in the next world."

  "But, my lad," pleaded the old fellow, "they're close here."

  "
I am ready," said the convict quietly; and there was a pause.

  Then he spoke again.

  "Perhaps I shall be sent somewhere else, old man. I shall be marked asdangerous now, and not fit to be at a station where there are ladies.But you'll tell young Mr Nic the whole truth?--you know what I've hadto bear."

  "Ay, my lad, I do know."

  "Thank you, Samson. You've always been a good fellow to me. Good-bye."

  He passed the axe into his left hand and held out his right, but quicklyplaced the axe back and stood up firmly, as a heavily built,florid-looking man, mounted upon a fiery horse covered with foam,cantered up, followed by four more men, three of whom, like theirleader, bore guns, while the fourth was Brookes with his head tied up,his face swollen, distorted, and still smeared with dried blood--altogether a horrible-looking object--but he sat his horse firmlyenough.

  As the leader rode up he lowered the gun he carried and spurred hishesitating horse close up to the convict, as if fully prepared to drivein the spurs and ride him down.

  "Surrender!" he shouted. "Down with that axe, quickly, or I'll send acharge of buckshot through you."

  Leather looked him straight in the eyes and threw down the axe.

  "Here, Belton: handcuffs."

  One of his men dismounted, handed his gun and rein to a companion, tooka pair of heavy handcuffs from the strap which held his blanket to thesaddle, and advanced to where the convict stood with folded arms.

  These were dragged roughly apart, and _click_!--one iron was about awrist. Then the other arm was seized, dragged downward, and _click_!the convict's wrists were secured behind his back, just as Mrs Braydonand her two daughters came hurrying out; and seeing what had takenplace, Janet uttered a low cry, and would have fallen but for hersister's arm.

  The convict saw it, and his lips quivered for a few moments. Then hestood up with his head erect, gazing straight before him.

  "Mr Dillon!" cried Mrs Braydon.

  "Your servant, my dear madam," said the new arrival, raising his hat ashe rode forward. "Young ladies, yours. Don't be alarmed, Miss Braydon:there is no danger now. I am very sorry that this outrage has takenplace in the doctor's absence. Your poor man rode over, and I cameinstantly.--Too glad to have been of service."

  Mrs Braydon's lips moved, but no word was heard.

  "Where is the young squire?" continued the visitor.

  "My brother has gone out on a round, I suppose, Mr Dillon," said Hildaquickly. "But--but what are you going to do?"

  "What a neighbour should, my dear young lady. What your father would dofor me or any of our friends. See that wives and daughters areprotected in every way."

  Then, turning quickly, he rode back a few yards.

  "Go on, my lads," he said to his followers. "I'll overtake youdirectly."

  The man who had handcuffed Leather loosened one end of a hide rope fromhis saddle-bow, and secured it to the irons on the convict's wrists.

  "Say, Mr Dillon, sir," said old Sam, who had been dividing his timebetween scowling at Brookes and watching what was going on. "That therepoor chap can't walk ten mile over to your place. He's only just comeout of a swound."

  "Indeed!" said the visitor, with a laugh. "We shall see. Now forward!"

  The little procession moved off; Belton first, with his prisoner, andthe two others with their guns across their saddle-bows following.

  Then Mr Dillon rode back to the ladies.

  "I am very sorry, Mrs Braydon. I wish you had kept away from thispainful scene."

  "Yes, it is very terrible," said the trembling woman. "But--it was in afit of passion, I suppose, Mr Dillon. You will not be very severe?"

  "I have a duty as a magistrate to perform, ladies, and I must be just.Your man has been barbarously attacked; and living as we do with theseconvict servants about, more in number in places than we are ourselves,any hesitation would be stamped by them as weakness, and our veryexistence would be at stake."

  "But he has always been a good, hard-working man, Mr Dillon," pleadedJanet.

  "And so long as he behaved, my dear Miss Braydon, the government said,`You can have almost your freedom.' He and other assigned servants knowthe bargain with the government. Good behaviour--liberty; badbehaviour--punishment."

  "But till my husband returns," faltered Mrs Braydon, "you will wait?"

  "These things cannot wait, madam. The law here must be administeredfirmly and sharply."

  "But you will investigate the case?"

  "It has been investigated, Mrs Braydon," said Mr Dillon stiffly."Your man came to me, with witnesses who cannot lie, branded upon hisface. Ladies, I respect your gentle, merciful feelings; but if you hadthe governance here, in a short time the Crown Colony would be apandemonium, ruled over by a president too vile to live."

  "Hear him!" growled Brookes.

  "D'yer want me to kick yer?" whispered old Samson savagely.

  "But you will wait? Keep him a prisoner for a time, Mr Dillon,"pleaded Mrs Braydon, as she saw her elder daughter's agonised look.

  "My dear madam, I must study your husband and the commonweal of thiscolony," said the magistrate firmly. "Good morning."

  "But--you wish refreshments?" faltered Mrs Braydon.

  "Some other time, madam. My visit now must be very painful to you all."

  He raised his hat, spurred his horse, and galloped off after his men;while, as Mrs Braydon stood gazing after him, Janet uttered a low wail,flung her arms about her sister's neck, and whispered, "Take me in,dear. I cannot bear it, take me in."

  "Janet, my child!" cried Mrs Braydon; and in an agony of suffering shehelped to lead the agitated girl into the house, while old Sam trottedoff into the stable, and came back with a halter in his hand to whereBrookes stood, shading his swollen-up eyes with one hand, holding therein of his horse with the other.

  "Thank ye, mate," he said, as he saw the halter, "but I dunno as I wantit. Take the horse in for me; I want a wash. Don't s'pose MrLeatherhead'll hit at me again."

  "Yes," said old Sam in a husky voice, "I'll take the poor horse. Here,ketch hold. How are you a-going to face Master Nic when, he comesback?"

  "Face him!" cried Brookes savagely: "I'll face him and show him what hisfav'rite has done. He shall see my face, and then he may go and look athis convict's back and see how he likes that."

  "Here, ketch hold," cried old Sam, shaking the rope.

  "Tell you I don't want it," cried Brookes savagely.

  "And I tell you you do," said the old man fiercely. "Take it and goright off to the first big green bough in the bush."

  "What for?" cried Brookes, with his swollen eyelids opening wide.

  "To use it--on yourself; for such a man as you ain't fit to live."