Robbery Under Arms

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Though both Aileen and he seemed to like each other, Jim and I never thought
there was anything in it, and let them talk and ride and walk together
just as they pleased. Aileen always had a good word for Starlight,
and seemed to pity him so for having to lead such a life,
and because he said he had no hope of ever getting free from it.
Then, of course, there was a mystery about him. Nobody knew who he'd been,
or almost where he had come from -- next to nothing about him
had ever come out. He was an Englishman -- that was certain --
but he must have come young to the colony. No one could
look at him for a moment and see his pale, proud face, his dark eyes
-- half-scornful, half-gloomy, except when he was set up a bit
(and then you didn't like to look at them at all) -- without seeing
that he was a gentleman to the tips of his delicate-looking fingers,
no matter what he'd done, or where he'd been.

He was rather over the middle size; because he was slight made,
he always looked rather tall than not. He was tremendous strong, too,
though he didn't look that, and as active as a cat, though he moved
as if walking was too much trouble altogether, and running
not to be thought of.

We didn't expect it would do either of 'em much good. How could it,
even if they did fall in love with one another and make it up to get married?
But they were both able to take care of themselves, and it was no use
interfering with 'em either. They weren't that sort.

Starlight had plenty of money, besides his share of the gold.
If we could ever get away from this confounded rock-walled prison,
good as it was in some ways; and if he and Aileen and the rest of us
could make a clean dart of it and get to America, we could live there
free and happy yet, in spite of all that had come and gone.

Aileen wasn't like to leave poor old mother as long as she wanted her,
so it couldn't come off for a year or two at earliest,
and many things were sure to happen in the meanwhile.
So we let all the talking and walking and riding out in the evening go on
as much as they pleased, and never said anything or seemed to take
any notice at all about it.

All this time mother was at George Storefield's. When Aileen
ran over that time, he said it wasn't fit for them to live at Rocky Flat
by themselves. So he went over that very day -- like a good fellow,
as he was -- and brought over the old woman, and made them both
stay at his house, safe and comfortable. When Aileen said
she had to go away to nurse dad he said he would take care of mother
till she came back, and so she'd been there all the time.
She knew Mrs. Storefield (George's mother) well in the old times;
so they used to sit by the kitchen fire when they wanted to be
extra comfortable, and knit stockings and talk over the good old times
to their hearts' content.

If it hadn't been for old Mrs. Storefield I don't expect mother
would have contented herself there -- the cottage was got so grand,
Aileen told us, and Gracey had to dress a bit now. George had kept on
making more money in every way he tried it, and of course he began,
bit by bit, to live according to his means.

He'd bought cattle-stations on the Lachlan just when the gold broke out first,
and everybody thought station property was never going
to be worth nothing again. Now, since cattle had risen and meat and all
to such a price, he was making money hand over fist. More than that,
as I said before, he'd been made a magistrate, and all the swells
began to take notice of him -- not altogether because he'd made money either;
what I call the real swells, as far as I see, won't do that.
If they don't care for a man -- no matter how much money he's made --
they hold shy of him. But if he's a straight-going good sort of fellow,
that has his head screwed on the right way, and don't push himself forward
too much, they'll meet him half-way, and a very good thing too.

We could see George was going upwards and out of our lot,
beginning to mix with different people and get different notions --
not but what he was always kind and friendly in his way to Aileen and mother,
and would have been to us if he'd ever seen us. But all his new friends
were different kind of people, and after a bit, Aileen said,
we'd only be remembered as people he'd known when he was young,
and soon, when the old lady died, we'd be asked into the kitchen
and not into the parlour. Aileen used to laugh when she talked like this,
and say she'd come and see George when he'd married a lady,
and what fun it would be to remind Gracey of the time
they threshed the oats out together at Rocky Flat. But still, laugh and all,
I could see, though she talked that way, it made her feel wretched
all the while, because she couldn't help thinking that we ought to have done
just as well as George, and might have been nigh-hand as far forward
if we'd kept straight. If we'd only kept straight! Ah, there was where
the whole mistake lay.

It often seems to me as if men and women ought to have two lives
-- an old one and a new one -- one to repent of the other;
the first one to show men what they ought to keep clear of in the second.
When you think how foolish-like and childish man or woman commits
their first fault, not so bad in itself, but enough often
to shut them out from nearly all their chances of good in this world,
it does seem hardish that one life should end all under the sun.
Of course, there's the other, and we don't know what's coming,
but there's so many different notions about that a chap like me gets puzzled,
and looks on it as out of his line altogether.

We weren't sorry to have a little excuse to stop quiet at home for this month.
We couldn't have done no good by mooching about, and ten to one,
while the chase was so hot after all that were supposed to have had a hand
in rubbing out Hagan and his lot, we should have been dropped upon.
The whole country was alive with scouting parties, as well as the regulars.
You'd have thought the end of the world was come. Father couldn't have done
a better thing for himself and all of us than get hit as he did.
It kept him and us out of harm's way, and put them off the scent,
while they hunted Moran and Burke and the rest of their lot for their lives.
They could hardly get a bit of damper out of a shepherd's hut
without it being known to the police, and many a time they got off
by the skin of their teeth.

Chapter 40

At last father got well, and said he didn't see what good Aileen could do
stopping any longer in the Hollow, unless she meant to follow up bush-ranging
for a living. She'd better go back and stay along with her mother.
If George Storefield liked to have 'em there, well and good;
things looked as if it wasn't safe now for a man's wife and daughter,
and if he'd got into trouble, to live peaceable and quiet in their own house.
He didn't think they need be afraid of any one interfering with them
for the future, though. Here dad looked so dark that Aileen began to think
he was going to be ill again. We'd all start and go a bit of the way with her
next day -- to the old stockyard or a bit farther; she could ride from there,
and take the horse back with her and keep him if she liked.

`You've been a good gal to me,' he says to her; `you always was one;
and your mother's been a good woman and a good wife; tell her I said so.
I'd no call to have done the things I have, or left home
because it wasn't tidy and clean and a welcome always when I came back.
It's been rough on her, and on you too, my gal; and if it'll do her any good,
tell her I'm dashed sorry. You can take this trifle of money.
You needn't boggle at it; it's honest got and earned,
long before this other racket. Now you can go. Kiss your old dad;
like as not you won't see him again.'

We'd got the horses in. I lifted her up on to the saddle, and she rode out.
Her horse was all on the square, so there was no harm in her taking him
back with her, and off we went. Dad didn't go after all. We took it easy
out to the old stockyard. We meant to camp there for half-an-hour,
and then to send her on, with Warrigal to keep with her and show her
the way home.

We didn't want to make the time too short. What a lovely day it was!
The mountain sides were clogged up with mist for an hour after we started;
still, any one that knew the climate would have said it was going to be
a fine day. There wasn't a breath of air; everything was that still
that not a leaf on any of the trees so much as stirred.

When we came to the pass out of the valley, we none of us got off;
it was better going up than coming down, and it would have tired Aileen out
at the start to walk up. So the horses had to do their climbing.
It didn't matter much to them. We were all used to it, horses and riders.
Jim and I went first, then Warrigal, then Aileen and Starlight.
After we got up to the top we all stopped and halted a bit to look round.

Just then, as if he'd waited for us, the sun came out
from behind the mountain; the mists lifted and rolled away
as if they had been gray curtains. Everything showed clear out
like a playhouse, the same Jim and I used to see in Melbourne.
From where we stood you could see everything, the green valley flats
with the big old trees in clumps, some of 'em just the same
as they'd been planted. The two little river-like silver threads winding away
among the trees, and far on the opposite side the tall gray rock-towers
shining among the forest edges of the high green wall. Somehow the sun
wasn't risen enough to light up the mountain. It looked as black and dismal
as if it was nightfall coming on.

`Good-bye, old Hollow!' Aileen called out, waving her hand.
`Everything looks bright and beautiful except the mountain.
How gloomy it appears, as if it held some dreadful secret -- doesn't it?
Ah! what a pleasant time it has been for me. Am I the same Aileen Marston
that went in there a few weeks since? And now I suppose
there will be more misery and anxiety waiting for all of us when I get back.
Well, come what will, I have had a little happiness on this earth.
In heaven there must be rest.'

We all rode on, but none of us seemed to care to say much.
Every step we went seemed to be taking us away from the place
where we'd all been so happy together. The next change was sure to be
for the worse. What it would be, or when it would come,
we none of us could tell.

Starlight and Aileen rode together most of the way, and talked a good deal,
we could see. Before we got to the stockyard she rode over to Jim
and cheered him up as much as she could about Jeanie. She said she'd write
to her, and tell her all about him, and how happy we'd all been
together lately; and tell her that Jim would find some way to get down to her
this spring, if he could manage it any road.

`If I'm above ground, tell her I'll be with her,' says poor old Jim,
`before Christmas. If she don't see me then I'll be dead,
and she may put on black and make sure she's a widow.'

`Oh, come, you mustn't talk like that, Jim, and look to the bright side a bit.
There's a good chance yet, now the country's so full of diggers
and foreigners. You try your luck, and you'll see your wife yet.'

Then she came to me, and talked away just like old times.

`You're the eldest, Dick,' she said, `and so it's proper for me
to say what I'm going to say.' Then she told me all that was in her heart
about Starlight. He and she had made it up that if he could get away
to a foreign country she would join him there, and take mother with her.
There was to be no marrying or love-making unless they could carry out
that plan. Then she told me that she had always had the same sort of feeling
towards him. `When I saw him first I thought I had never seen a man before --
never one that I could care for or think of marrying. And now he has told me
that he loves me -- loves me, a poor ignorant girl that I am;
and I will wait for him all my life, and follow him all round the world.
I feel as if I could die for him, or wear out my life in trying
to make him happy. And yet, and yet,' she said, and all her face grew sad,
and put on the old look that I knew so well, so hopeless,
so full of quiet bearing of pain, `I have a kind of feeling at my heart
that it will never be. Something will happen to me or to him.
We are all doomed to sorrow and misfortune, and nothing can save us
from our fate.'

`Aileen, dear,' I said, `you are old enough to know what's best for yourself.
I didn't think Starlight was on for marrying any woman, but he's far and away
the best man we've ever known, so you can please yourself.
But you know what the chances are. If he gets clear off, or any of us,
after what's been done, you're right. But it's a hundred to one against it.'

`I'll take the odds,' says she, holding up her head. `I'm willing to put
my life and happiness, what little there's left of it, on the wager.
Things can't well be worse.'

`I don't know,' I said. `I ought to tell you -- I must tell you something
before we part, though I'd a deal rather not. But you'll bear it better now
than in a surprise.'

`Not more blood, more wickedness,' she said, in a half-whisper, and then
she looks up stern and angry-like. `When is this list of horrible things
to stop?'

`It was none of our doing. Moran and Daly were in it, and ----'

`And none of you? Swear that,' she said, so quick and pitiful-like.

`None of us,' I said again; `nor yet Warrigal.'

`Then who did it? Tell me all. I'm not a child. I will know.'

`You remember the man that was rude to you at Rocky Flat,
and father and he fired at one another?'

`Of course I do, cowardly wretch that he was. Then Moran was waiting for them
up the gully? I wondered that they did not come back next day.'

`They never came back,' I said.

`Why, you don't mean to tell me that they are all dead, all four? --
those strong men! Oh, surely not, Dick?' and she caught hold of my arm,
and looked up into my face.

`Yes, Aileen, all. We came after and followed up dad, when we got home;
it's a wonder he did it by himself. But we saw them all four
lying stretched out.'

She put down her head and never spoke more till we parted.

. . . . .

We turned back, miserable enough all of us, God knows.
After having Aileen to make the place bright and pleasant and cheer us all up
losing her was just as if all the little pleasure we had in our lives
was dropped out of them -- like the sun going out of the sky,
and the wind rising; like the moon clouding over, and a fog
burying up everything -- dark and damp, the same as we'd had it many a time
cattle-driving by night. We hardly spoke a word to one another
all the way home, and no wonder.

Next day we all sat about, looking more down on our luck, dad said,
than any day since we'd `turned out'. Then Starlight told him
about him and Aileen, how they'd made it up to be married some day or other.
Not yet, of course; but if he could get away by Melbourne
to some of these places -- the islands on the Pacific coast, where vessels
were always sailing for -- he didn't see why his luck shouldn't change.
`I have always thought your daughter,' he says to father,
`one of the grandest women I ever met, in any degree, gentle or simple.
She has had the imprudence to care for me; so, unless you have
some well-grounded objection -- and I don't say you haven't, mind you,
I should if I were in your place -- you may as well say you're contented,
and wish us luck!'

Father was a long time before he said anything. He sat there,
looking very sullen and set-like, while Starlight lit a cigar
and walked quietly up and down a few paces off.

Dad answers at last. `I don't say but what other lads
would have suited better if they'd come off, but most things goes contrary
in this world. The only thing as I'm doubtful of, Captain, is your luck.
If that's bad, all the trying and crying won't set it right.
And it's great odds as you'll be caught or shot afore the year's out.
For that matter, every one of us is working for Government on the same road.
But the gal's a good gal, and if she's set her fancy on you I won't block her.
You're a pair of dashed fools, that's all, botherin' your heads with the like
at a time like this, when you boys are all more likely to have
a rope round your necks than any gal's arms, good or bad. Have your own way.
You always managed to get it, somehow or other, ever since I knowed ye.'

After this father lit his pipe and went into the cave.

By and by he comes out again and catches the old mare.

`I ain't been out of this blessed hole,' he says, `for a month of Sundays.
I'm dead tired of seeing nothin' and doin' nothin'. I'll crawl over
to old Davy's for our letters and papers. We ain't heard nothing for a year,
seems to me.'

Dad was strong enough to get about in the saddle again, and we weren't sorry
to get shut of him for a bit. He was that cranky at times
there was no living with him. As for ourselves, we were regular wild
for some sort of get away for a bit of a change; so we hadn't talked it over
very long before we made up our minds to take a run over to Jonathan Barnes's
and have a bit of fun, just to take the taste out of our mouths
of Aileen's going away.

We had to dress ourselves very quiet and get fresh horses -- nags that had
nothing particular about them to make people look, at the same time
with a bit of go in them in case we were pushed at any time.

No sooner said than done. We went to work and got everything ready,
and by three o'clock we were off -- all three of us, and never in better heart
in our lives -- for a bit of fun or devilment; it didn't matter
which came first.

When we got to Jonathan's it was latish, but that didn't matter to us
or to the girls neither; they were always ready for a bit of fun,
night or day. However, just at first they pretended to be
rather high and mighty about this business of Hagan's.

`Oh! it's you, is it?' says Bella, after we walked in. `I don't know
as it's safe for us to be knowing such dangerous characters.
There's a new law against harbouring, father says. He's pretty frightened,
I can tell you, and for two pins we'd be told to shut the door in your faces.'

`You can do that if you like now,' says I; `we shan't want telling twice,
I daresay. But what makes you so stiff to-night?'

`Why, Hagan's business, of course,' says Maddie; `four men killed
in cold blood. Only I know you couldn't and wouldn't be in it
I'd not know any of ye from a crow. There now.'

`Quite right, most beauteous Madeline,' says Starlight; `it was
a very dreadful affair, though I believe there was some reason for old Ben
being angry. Of course, you know we weren't within miles of the place
when it was done. You remember the night we were here last?'

`Of course we do, Captain, quite well. Weren't you going
to dance at Bella's wedding and all? You'll have to do that
sooner than we expected, though.'

`Glad to hear it, but listen to me, my dear; I want you to know the truth.
We rode straight back to the -- to where we lived -- and, of course,
found the old man gone away from the place. We tracked him right enough,
but came up when it was all over. Daly and Moran were the chief actors
in that tragedy.'

`Oh, we said it was Moran's work from the first, didn't we, Bill?
It's just the line he's cut out for. I always think he ought to have
a bowl and dagger. He looks like the villain on the stage.'

`On or off the stage he can support the principal part in that line
most naturally,' says Starlight; `but I prophesy he will be cut off
in the midst of his glorious career. He's beastly cunning,
but he'll be trapped yet.'

`It's a pity Jim can't stay a few days with us,' says Maddie;
`I believe we'd find a way of passing him on to Victoria.
I've known more than one or two, or half-a-dozen either,
that has been put through the same way.'

`For God's sake, Mad, lay me on!' says poor Jim, `and I'll go on my knees
to you.'

`Oh! I daresay,' says Maddie, looking saucy, `but I like a man
to be fond of some woman in a proper way, even if it isn't me;
so I'll do what I can to help you to your wife and pickaninny.'

`We must get you into the police force, Maddie,' says Starlight,
`or make you a sort of inspector, unattached, if you're so clever at managing
these little affairs. But what's the idea?'

`Well,' says she, settling herself in a chair, spreading out her dress,
and looking very knowing, `there's an old gentleman being driven
all the way overland in a sort of light Yankee trap, and the young fellow
that's driving has to find horses and feed 'em, and get so much for the trip.'

`Who is it?' says I.

`Oh! you know him,' says Maddie, looking down, `he's a great friend of mine,
a steady-going, good-conducted chap, and he's a little -- you understand --
well, shook on me. I could persuade him a bit, that is ----'

`I don't doubt that at all,' says I.

`Oh! you know him a little. He says he saw you at the Turon; he was working
with some Americans. His name's Joe Moreton.'

`I remember him well enough; he used to wear a moustache and a chin beard,
and talk Yankee. Only for that he was a good deal like Jim;
we always said so.'

`Do you see anything now, Dick, you that's so sharp?' says Maddie.

`Bless my soul,' says Starlight, `of course, it is as clear
as your beautiful eyes. Jim is to shave his beard, talk like a Yankee,
and go in Joe Moreton's place. I see it all. Maddie persuading Joe
to consent to the exchange of duties.'

`But what will his employer say?'

`Oh! he's as bad as bad can be with the sandy blight,' says Maddie,
`wears green goggles, poor old gentleman. He'll never know nothing,
and he'll be able to swear up for Jim if the police pull him anywhere
this side of the Murray.'

We'd told Maddie that money needn't stand in the way,
so she was to promise Joe the full sum that he was to get for his contract
would be paid to him in cash that night -- Jim to pay his own expenses
as he went, the same as he was to do himself. Of course she could get
the money from old Jonathan. A word from us then was worth a deal more
than that'd come to. Money wasn't the worst thing we had to care about.

They would have to change clothes, and he'd tell Jim about the horses,
the stages, and how to answer the old cove, and what to do to humour him
as they went along. If he'd had his full eyesight he might have noticed
some difference, but as it was, it was as much as the poor old chap,
she believed, could see there was a driver at all. His eyes was
bound up mostly; he had a big shade over 'em, and was half the night
swabbing and poulticing, and putting lotion into 'em. He'd got sandy blight
that bad it would take months to get right. Once you get a touch like that
it's a terror, I can tell you. I've had it that bad myself
I had to be led about.

After a lot of talking, that Jim was to try his luck
as the Rev. Mr. Watson's coachman, he was mad to get away somehow,
and such another chance might never turn up in a month of Sundays.
He would have plenty of time to shave his beard and make himself look
as like as ever he could to Joe Moreton. Maddie said she'd see after that,
and it would be as good as a play. Lucky for old Jim we'd all taken a fancy
at the Turon, for once in a way, to talk like Arizona Bill and his mates,
just for the fun of the thing. There were so many Americans there at first,
and they were such swells, with their silk sashes, bowie knives,
and broad-leafed `full-share' hats, that lots of the young native fellows
took a pride in copying them, and could walk and talk and guess and calculate
wonderful well considering. Besides, most of the natives
have a sort of slow, sleepy way of talking, so it partly came natural
to this chap, Joe Moreton, and Jim. There couldn't be a better chance,
so we thought we'd stay a day and give Jim a send off all square and regular.
It wasn't no ways too safe, but we wanted a bit of a jollification
and we thought we'd chance it.

That night we had a regular good ball. The girls got
some of the young fellows from round about to come over,
and a couple or two other girls, and we had no end of fun.
There was plenty of champagne, and even Jim picked up a bit;
and what with being grateful to Maddie for giving him this lift,
and better in spirits on the chance of seeing Jeanie again,
he was more like his own self. Maddie said he looked so handsome
she had half a mind to throw over Joe Moreton after all.

Joe came rather latish, and the old gentleman had a cup of tea and went to bed
at once, leaving word for Joe that he wanted to start almost before daylight,
or as soon as he could see to drive, so as to get half-way on their stage
before the sun was hot.

After Joe had seen to his horses and put the trap away he came into the house
and had a glass or two, and wired in with the rest of us like a good 'un.
After a bit we see Maddie corner him off and have a long talk,
very serious too. After that they went for a walk in the garden and was away
a good while. When she came back she looked over at Jim and nodded,
as much as to say, `It's all right,' and I saw poor old Jim's face brighten up
as if a light had passed over it.