E. W. Hornung

“ In Butcher-boy, which was three miles across, there was nothing for them to do but to ride after their shadows and to talk as they rode, neck and neck, along the fluted yellow ribbon miscalled a road, between tufts of sea-green saltbush and faraway clumps of trees.
"I wish I wasn't such a duffer in the bush," said Ives, resolved to make the most of the first lady he had met for months. "The rum thing is that I'm frightfully keen on the life."
"Are you really?" queried Moya, and she was interested on her own account, for what might have been. ”

“ He destroyed illusions as other men destroy game, and seldom made a new acquaintance without securing a fair bag. Better traits were a playful fancy and an essential geniality which suggested more of mischief than of malice in the real man; the pose, however, was that of uncompromising and heartless critic of every creature of his acquaintance, and every country in which he had set foot.
The first night he had behaved very well. Moya had made him promise that he would not be openly critical for twenty-four hours. He had kept his word like a man and a martyr. ”

“ These rude refinements were delights still in store for Moya Bethune, who saw the bush as yet from a comfortable chair upon a cool verandah, and could sing its praises with a clear conscience. Indeed, a real enthusiasm glistened in her eyes. And the eyes of Moya happened to be her chief perfection. But for once Rigden was not looking into them, and his own were fixed in thought.
"There's the charm of novelty," he said. "That I can understand." ”

“ And this time Moya could not see it burn: the red-hot wire had entered her soul. Theodore had been so long, he might be longer; risk it she must, and take the consequences. Two steps carried her across the verandah; lighter she had never taken in a ball-room, where her reputation was that of a feather. Once in the kindly sand, however, she ran desperately, madly, to the horse-yard. And she was just in time to hear the dying beat of a horse's canter into infinity. ”

“ Rigden came out on the edge of a chain of clay-pans, hard-baked by the sun, and shining under the moon like so many water-holes.
Rigden rode a little way upon the nearest hard, smooth surface; then he pulled up, and, looking back, could see scarcely any trace of his horse's hoofs. He now flung a leg across the saddle, and sat as the ladies while his quiet beast stood like bronze. A night-horse is ex officio a quiet beast.
Rigden wondered whether any man had ever before changed his boots on horseback. ”

“ Moya's reassuring smile was all kindly, and not all forced; indeed, the tears were very close to the surface, and she could not trust herself to say much.
"Not cheek at all," was what she did say, with vigour. "Only—you'll change your mind."
With that her eyes glistened for an instant; and young Ives loved her himself. But neither of them was sorry when another gate grew large above the horses' ears, with posts and wires dwindling into perspective on either side to mark the eastern frontier of Big Bushy. ”

“ Why on earth should he risk his all to save the skin of a runaway convict? What can that convict be to him, Moya? Or is the sole explanation mere misplaced, chuckle-headed chivalry?"
"What should you say?" asked Moya quietly.
"I'll tell you frankly," said Theodore at once; "as things were I should have hesitated, but as things are there's no reason why I shouldn't say what I think. It's evidently some relation; a man only does that sort of thing for his flesh and blood. ”

“ Otherwise the seven miles were uneventful travelling; for even Moya's eyes discerned few more sheep on their side of the wires; and beyond these, to the left, was the long and ragged edge of a forest so dense (though low) that Moya, riding with Ives at the tail of the mob, said it was no wonder there were no sheep at all on the other side.
"Oh, but that's not Eureka over there," explained Ives; "that's the worst bit of country in the whole of Riverina. No one will take it up; it's simply fenced in by the fences of the blocks all round." ”

“ They say it's an easy place to die in, this here Blind Man's Block, but you'll see for yourself. A nice little corpse we'll make, won't we? But we'll die and rot the same, and the crows'll have our eyes for breakfast and our innards for dinner! And do you good, you little white devil, you!"
Moya remained standing in the same attitude, with the same steady eye and the same marble pallor, long after the monster disappeared, and the last beat of the dapple-grey's hoofs was lost among the normal wilds of the bush. ”

“ But no one ever sat in the sun up there. Moya said nothing; but at length gave so short an answer to so natural a question that Mrs. Duncan retreated with a very natural impression, false for the moment, but not for so many moments more.
For presently through the handful of pines, red-stemmed and resinous in the sunset, there came the jingle of bit and stirrup, to interrupt the unworthiest thoughts in which the insulted lady had yet indulged. She was thinking of much that she had missed in town by coming up-country in the height of the season; she was wishing herself back in Toorak. ”

“ She asked no more questions, and they rode a space in silence, Ives glancing sidelong in his turn, and in his heart congratulating Rigden more and more.
"By Jove," he cried at last, "I think I shall have to get you to use your influence on my behalf!"
"For what?" asked Moya, wincing again.
"Another chance! They mustn't give me the sack just yet—I must be here when you come. It's the one thing we need—a lady. It's the one thing he needs to make him as nearly perfect as it's comfortable for other people for a man to be. And I simply must be here to see."
"Let's canter," said Moya. ”

“ She was just uncomfortable enough to have a dreadful inkling of the stages between discomfort and death.
"It's a pity not to use the hut," she said at length.
"I believe it was more bother than the class of water was worth," returned Ives. "Yes, now I think of it, I remember hearing that they couldn't get men to stay there. Blind Man's Block used to give them the creeps. They're frightfully superstitious, these back-blockers!"
"I'm not surprised," said Moya, with a shudder. "I never want to see Blind Man's Block again, or the hut either." ”

“ Bovill seized the bridle.
"It's a fool of a horse!" said he. "Why, we're quite close to the fence, and it wants to head back into the middle of the block!"
Moya remarked that she did not recognise the country.
"Of course you don't," was the reply. "You came the devil of a round, but I'm taking you straight back to the fence. Trust an old hand like me; I can smell a fence as a sheep smells water. You trust yourself to me!" ”

“ Down the fence they fell in with frequent stragglers, and the mob absorbed them in [Pg 103] its sweep; then Moya made a sortie to the right, and Ives lost sight of her through the cloud of dust in which she rode, till the beat of hoofs came back with a scuttle of trotters, and the mob was swollen by a score at least, and the thickening cloud pierced by Moya radiant with success. Her habit was powdered as with sullen gold, and the brown gold streamed in strands from her adorable head. Ives worshipped her across the yellow gulf between their horses. ”

“ She even shaded her eyes with one sunburnt hand, as if to assure herself that she had made no mistake.
"So the whim is abandoned, and the hut unoccupied?"
"Yes, ever since Mr. Rigden has been manager. I hear it was one of his first improvements."
They had struck the farther fence, and the mob was well in hand along the wires. Moya and the jackeroo were ambling leisurely behind, and nothing could have been more natural than Moya's questions.
"And the hut is unoccupied?" was her next.
"Quite; as a matter of fact, it's unfit for occupation." ”

“ Theodore smiled.
"Because you wouldn't know a man's track from a monkey's if you went?"
Theodore laughed.
"Why drag in Darwin, my dear girl? No, I've not been to look, and yet I'm not convinced. I just have my doubts, and a reason or so for them; then I haven't your admirable ground of belief in the infallibility of our host's judgment. He may be mistaken. Mistakes do get made by moonlight. Let's put it at that." [Pg 74]
But Moya knew that he was not putting it at that in his mind, and she made up hers to learn the worst of his suspicions.
"If the tracks are not his, whose are they?" ”

“ Rigden said here he was, and here he'd stick until his fate was settled. Would you like to see him now?"
"Presently," repeated Moya. "I want to hear more; then I may have something to tell you. When and where did this death occur, and what made you so sure that it was the dead man who came to Eureka? You will understand my questions in a minute."
"Only I must answer them first," said the sergeant, smiling. "I am to give myself clean away, am I?"
"We must all do that sometimes, Sergeant Harkness. It will be my turn directly. Let us trust each other." ”

“ Temperament, character, and attainment seemed to have combined to produce the perfect barrister in Theodore Bethune, who was infinitely critical but himself impervious to criticism, while possessed of a capital gift of insolence and a face of triple brass. The man, however, was not so perfect; even the gentleman may exhibit certain flaws. Of these one of his sisters had latterly become very conscious; but they came out as a boon to her on the second evening of this visit to Eureka Station, New South Wales. ”

“ He was admiring her resource.
"I agree," he said slowly, "if—our friend is right."
"Whom do you mean?" inquired Moya, up in arms on the instant.
"Rigden, of course."
"So you think he may be mistaken about the tracks, do you?"
"I think it's possible."
"You know a lot about such things yourself, of course! You have a wide experience of the bush, haven't you? What do the police think?"
"They're leaving it till the morning. They hope for the best."
"So everybody is pleased except my brilliant brother! I want to know why—I want to know more about these tracks." ”

“ Luckily she was not unused to horses. She not only had her own hack at home, but made a pet of it and kept her eye upon the groom. A single match, blown out in an instant, showed Moya the saddle and bridle which she had already used, with a water-bag hanging hard by, in the hut adjoining the yard. The bag she filled from the tank outside. The rest was an even simpler matter; a rocking-horse could not have stood quieter than the bony beast which Ives had left behind with the night-horse. ”

“ But the paddock had not got its name for nothing; it was overrun with the sombre scrub, short and thick as lichen on a rock; and from the open spaces no sheep swam into Moya's ken.
"Turn sharp to the left, and follow the fence," replied the jackeroo.
"But I can't see a solitary sheep!"
"No, because you're looking slap into the paddock; that's the ground the others are going over, and they've already cleared it as far as we can see for the scrub. Each man takes his own line of country from this gate to the one opposite—seven miles away—and [Pg 98] collects every hoof on the way. ”

“ And even Theodore did not know that she was holding her breath.
"Something as fresh as paint," said he dryly. "Rigden thinks he's got on the fellow's tracks."
Moya had braced herself against any sudden betrayal of alarm; she was less proof against the inrush of a new contempt for her lover. [Pg 72]
"You don't mean it!" she cried with indignation.
"Why not?" asked Theodore blandly.
"Oh, nothing. Only it's pretty disgraceful—on the part of the police, I mean—that they should spend hours looking for what a mere amateur finds at once!" ”

“ Rigden?"
This was obviously Rigden's business, and Moya, pricking an involuntary ear, thought that he might have said so in as many words. But Rigden knew his type, and precisely when and in what measure to ignore its good-humoured effrontery.
"It's the sort of thing to do in time, or not at all," said he. "You catch me wait till my sheep begin to bog!"
"Bog!" cried the rabbiter. "Who said they were beginning to bog? I tell you there's tons of good water in this here tank; you come and look!" ”

“ But I'm the man—I'm the man. Do you think he'd have held out a finger to me if I hadn't been?"
"I've no doubt you convinced him that you were."
"How can one man convince another that he's his father?"
"I don't know. I only know that you have done it."
"Why, he knew me at once!"
"Nonsense! He had never seen you before; he doesn't remember his father."
"Do you suppose he hasn't seen pictures, and heard plenty? No, no; all the rest's a true bill; but Captain Bovill I've lived, and Captain Bovill I'm going to die." [Pg 203]
Moya looked at him closely. She could not help shuddering. ”

“ A bad man may still be the one man for a good woman, and make her happier than the best of good fellows; it was so in their case. My father was and is a bad man; there's no mincing the matter. I've stood by him for what he is [Pg 139] to me, not for what he is in himself, for he has gone from bad to worse, like most prisoners. He was in trouble when he married my mother; the police were on his tracks even then: they came out here under a false name."
"And your name?" asked Moya, pertinently yet not unkindly; indeed she was standing close beside him now.
"That is not false," said Rigden. ”