Mrs. Henry Clarke

“ Gray sank down on the fallen rafter and buried his face in his hands. No man can look on death and bear an unchanged front, not even the bravest and the most prepared, and Gray was not of these. For a brief moment he had believed that death was close to him. It was to Lumley's interest to kill him now that he knew where the gold was, and there had been murder in his eyes as he had looked across at Gray. And Gray sat with his hands clasped over his eyes, in sick, horrible fear at the thought of himself lying cold and stiff, with eyes staring blindly up at the sky ”

“ Gray remembered Dearing's face as he staggered into the hut, the look of abject horrible fear upon it. What days and nights he must have spent in this gully, watching, waiting, no rest, never safe for a single moment!
"Poor wretch!" Gray murmured to himself. "What a life to live!" And his thoughts went back, by force of sudden contrast, to the life of another lonely man. He remembered how M'Pherson had answered, with a glad, deep peace in his old face, "It's no lonely here. There's voices everywhere." ”

“ Gray's life was saved by the horse. As he bent down and lifted up the hoof it made a sudden, violent swerve away from him. It was at that moment Lumley pulled the trigger. The bullet whistled past Gray's head, and he sprang up, dazed and horrified, but quite unhurt, and made a clutch at Lumley's arm. But the arm was already lifted with the smoking pistol in it, and it descended with crushing force on Gray's upturned brow. Lumley had no need to repeat the blow. Gray fell back without a groan, and lay upon the earth as senseless and motionless as one already dead. ”

“ He was thinking of it one afternoon as he was riding across to Billoora on an errand for Mr. Morton. It was a clear beautiful afternoon, and the air on the grassy uplands was fresh and bracing. Gray might have taken the river road, which was a mile or two nearer, but it would have led him past the cottages, and he could not bear to look at them—the remembrance that Harding was to have had one of them was too exquisitely painful. But on the uplands there was nothing to remind him of Harding—the richly-green rolling wooded pastures were altogether unlike the gray plains round the hut. ”

“ The dog lying at the older man's feet, with its paw resting on one of them, raised its head sharply at Gray's movement, but did not attempt to get up even when Gray went to the door and opened it, letting the light of their lamp flow out in a steady stream.
All round the hut stretched the gray level grass-lands, rolling away in vast monotony to a far horizon. A wide sky arched over them, in which the stars were shining with a soft yet brilliant splendour. Gray glanced carelessly up at that glorious sky. He believed himself to be endowed with a keen sense of the beautiful. ”

“ Gray marvelled within himself how it was possible to follow any track in such a place as this. They had been riding for miles and miles without seeing a tree or a hillock, or even a dry water-course. One mile was exactly like any other mile. But he said nothing more to his companion. Silence was a boon Gray craved almost as much as he longed for water. At first Lumley had thrust his talk upon him, and found pleasure in the misery he inflicted on Gray by his coarse jokes and cruel jeers. ”

“ He knew the voice now: it was Lumley's voice. But it was as cruel and mocking as ever. Gray's dream of help from him vanished like a breath as he heard it.
He stumbled on across the sand hillocks, and presently could discern a huddled figure on the ground, with its back propped up against a hillock. The moonlight was full on the haggard blistered face that looked up at Gray with twitching lips.
"Welcome, partner," were Lumley's first words. "You didn't expect to see me again, did you now?" ”

“ A waterless desert, where the horses sunk fetlock-deep in shifting sand, or were cruelly pricked by the thorny leafless shrub which was the only living plant to be seen. No trees; no flowers; no grass; no sparkle of water far or near. Such was the land Gray and Lumley were riding through, four days after leaving Deadman's Gully.
In dull despair Gray had submitted to Lumley's plan for escaping the police. It had never occurred to him to disbelieve Lumley's statement. There seemed no reason for the lie, and he remembered Mr. Morton's sudden keen glance at him the night he left the station. ”

“ He stopped in the path and laid his hand on Gray's arm, more moved than Gray had ever seen him before.
"You wouldn't talk like that if you'd seen that poor fellow die, Gray," he said. "There's more difference between doing right and doing wrong than just that you get punished for wrong-doing if you're found out. Sin drags a man down, lad; it eats the manhood out of him. It makes a ruin of what's best in him."
The words fell on ears dull to their meaning. And Harding was quickly silent; speech was always a difficult thing to him. He had never spoken so earnestly to Gray before. ”

“ Gray's eyes fell on this as he was looking along the ground, and he sprang off his horse to more closely examine it. Some one had evidently passed here quite lately. As Gray looked he saw that the footsteps ceased a short way up the glen, and that when they ceased the ground was slightly broken away as if horse and rider had tried to climb the cliff. With a rush of sudden, unexplainable terror, Gray looked up the steep impassable wall of rock. Horse and rider had gone that way! But how?—and for what purpose? He listened intently, but no sound came to his ear that spoke of a living presence. ”

“ He knew that in a few more hours death must end his sufferings if he could not reach water. With grim determination he battled on that day through the flaming sunshine and gave himself no rest. Every moment he expected to see the cypresses rise on the horizon; and he was sweeping it with his glance when his eye fell on a white object fluttering on the wind from shrub to shrub. At first he could not discern what it was—his bloodshot weary eyes refused their office—-but on approaching nearer he saw it was a piece of paper. ”

“ Harding knew Gray well enough to be able to disregard that look, but he spoke very seriously.
"You'll not be such a foolish lad as to throw up your berth in a fit of temper. This won't last much longer. You will be called in to the station in a week or two and given a better post; and it's your duty to stick on here till you're called in, you see."
"Duty!" Gray flung the word at him like a missile.
Harding's mild eyes looked at him in gentle reproof.
"It's a fine thing to do, my lad. No man can do more if he lived in a king's palace. And a man who does his duty is greater than a king." ”

“ As Gray looked up he could only distinguish the vague dark outlines of the gloomy hills. A thousand men might have been hidden in the hollows and he would have been none the wiser. He listened intently, but there was no sound of human life. The wind had fallen, and the rush of the stream at the bottom of the ravine was the only sound that struck his ear. ”

“ Yet if he could not convince Lumley that he was to be trusted, there was nothing but death for both of them. Gray had felt incapable of reasoning with his companion for the moment, incapable even of speech. He had felt ready to give up the struggle—to let it all end there. But as he stood fighting manfully with his weakness, strength came to him—power to will and act as a brave man should. ”

“ Morton's glance, as if that glance could read his soul. But Mr. Morton had never felt so warmly towards Gray as he did at that moment. He was a better fellow than he had thought him, he said to himself, to feel Harding's disappearance so keenly.
"Look here, my lad," he said kindly, "you go into the house and ask Mrs. Morton to give you something to eat. You're just tired out, you know, and won't be fit for anything till you've had a rest. Oh, you shall go with us," he added as he saw Gray's hesitating look. "But we can't start for another hour. I must send over to Billoora for a man or two. ”

“ A living man he could have faced, but not this mysterious visitant from the world beyond the grave.
In a calmer moment Gray might have reasoned with himself, but he did not stop to reason now. He felt he must escape from this horrible place at once, or madness would come upon him. His horse was still tied to the door-post, and was cropping the thin grass that grew up between the crevices in the rocky platform on which the hut was built. Gray hurriedly unfastened him and led him towards the entrance to the gully. ”

“ A rush of pitiful feeling swept over Gray. He ran back towards the hut with one thought uppermost in his mind, to get his horse and go with the dog. Everything else was forgotten. When he had run a short distance he looked round at Watch and whistled. The dog was lying on the grass regarding him, but it refused to come at his whistle.
Gray stood still, and began to argue with himself. It was absurd to start at once. Watch would die on the way. It would be far better to wait for some hours till the poor creature was rested. Harding, in all probability, was already dead. ”

“ Gray gave a laugh that had not much mirth in it
"What a fellow you are, Harding! You insist on everybody being as virtuous as yourself. But I mean exactly what I say. Why did Mr. Tom Dearing take to robbing his neighbour unless he could insure himself against being found out? It may be bad to be a rogue; it's unpardonable to be known for one."
"What difference does it make in the sin, lad?" said Harding, with a sorrowful look at him. "And it's the sin we've got to think of." ”

“ I must hit upon them at last, you know."
"You'd never do it," said Lumley scoffingly. "You're nigh beat already. You'd die in your tracks."
"You're wrong there," returned Gray, with a quiet confidence that had its due effect on his companion. "I shall not be walking aimlessly, you see, and in this moonlight there's no fear of going over the same ground again. I am convinced I shall reach the water in time enough for myself. It is you who will probably suffer for keeping back the information you possess." ”

“ Harding was silent.
"It's only the fear of being found out that keeps men honest," Gray went on after a moment. "We're told, from our youth up, that 'Honesty is the best policy,' and most of us are sensible enough to believe it—and so we're honest."
"Don't you believe it, lad?" burst with emphasis from Harding; and not even Gray's flippant rejoinder, "Not believe that 'Honesty is the best policy?' you can't mean that?" ”

“ Lumley glared at him like a trapped beast.
"You're just the one to come back, ain't you?" he exclaimed. "A cove what murdered his own mate for a bit of flimsy. You're one to be trusted, ain't you?"
"You must believe that if you will," said Gray calmly. His voice faltered as he went on after a momentary pause. "I betrayed my mate—the truest, best mate man ever had; but I'll be true to you, Lumley, if you'll give me the chance. I am not the man I was."
The only answer Lumley vouchsafed to that was a harsh mocking laugh. ”

“ His crafty, cruel eyes fixed themselves on Gray's pallid twitching face.
"Murder of your mate, partner. 'Twas a pity you had to do it, for it's a hanging matter; but he was an obstinate chap, I expect. Pious and all that."
"They believe I murdered Harding?" Gray gasped out.
"Don't take on, partner," returned Clay cheerfully; "murder will out, as they say. And the police haven't got you yet. You trust to me: I know a track that'll take us out safe enough. I daresay you feel queer, though. It's unpleasant to be tracked by the police. ”

“ Gray'll be wanting a servant, and if he would take me on how blessed I should be!'"
Gray's face had turned an ashy white.
"What are you talking of?" he said sharply. He recovered himself with an effort, and added in a milder tone: "I expect I'm poorer than you are, Lumley. I've hardly enough to live on myself, let alone a servant." ”

“ The dog turned its head and looked at its master, gave a slow wag of its tail to show that it heard his voice, and then with a dash it sprang at the door, barking fiercely.
Harding got up and flung back the door. His movement was so sudden, that a man who had crept up to the hut and was now leaning against the door had no time to recover himself, and staggered forward into the hut. Watch retreated, still growling fiercely, but restrained from attacking the stranger by a gesture of its master. Gray made a clutch at the gun above his head, but the next moment withdrew his hand. ”

“ Lumley laughed out—a rough, coarse, jeering laugh, which filled Gray with sickening, helpless rage.
"Don't you be afraid of me," he said; "a partner's always safe with me. I don't set up to be a virtuous cove like you, but a partner's always safe with me. We'll go shares, mate—share and share alike. ”

“ The hut had been built by men who were in daily fear of capture. It had been built not so much as a shelter from the weather, for there were deep caves in the rocks that would have served that purpose, but as a means of defence. Safe inside the hut, with the door shut and that small window guarded by a good rifle, one man might have defied a score.
Gray guessed, and guessed truly, that Dearing had built the hut. The gang of bushrangers who had formerly used the gully for their lurking-place had lived in the caves. ”