"What shall I do?" said Nic to himself.
Being faint, and feeling half stunned, no answer came; and he looked
round at the beautiful country, which appeared newer and more beautiful
than ever in the orange-gold of approaching evening, while all within
was black with misery and despair.
He never knew before how much he liked the stern, manly fellow who that
next morning was to be tied up and flogged; and the more Nic thought of
the horrible punishment the deeper grew his misery, as he felt what a
helpless boy he was in the matter; and a number of wild plans began to
enter his head.
He had no gun with him now, but he could ride back, fetch it, and wait
till morning. Then he would ride up to the Wattles just when they were
going to tie up Leather, take his place beside him, and, with presented
gun, dare any one to touch his father's servant.
Then the weak tears came into the boy's eyes, and he laughed a piteous,
contemptuous laugh at himself for harbouring such a silly, romantic
notion.
And all the while Sorrel went on at his steady walk, growing cool and
comfortable, refreshed too by the light feed he had had and the rub
down.
They went slowly on till sunset, when Nic drew rein, and sat gazing at
the large orange ball sinking away beyond the mountains.
"So beautiful!" he said, forced into admiration of the glories of the
coming evening; "and poor Leather lying there handcuffed and waiting to
be flogged."
He leaped from his horse and threw the rein over its head.
"There!" he cried, patting the soft arched neck, "eat away, old chap.
You needn't be miserable if I am. I can't go and leave poor Leather
like this."
He threw himself down on the grass to think--to try and make out some
plan, while the birds winged their way overhead back to their roosting
places, and here and there the kangaroos and their many little relatives
began to steal out of the woodland shelters they had affected through
the heat of the day, to lope about like huge hares, look around for
danger, and then begin to browse.
At first the only idea that would come to the boy was that he would wait
there till daybreak, and then ride the three or four miles he had come
in his homeward direction back to the Wattles, getting there in good
time; and when the preparations were being made for punishment he would
ride boldly up and make a final appeal to Mr Dillon to either let
Leather off or to defer everything till the doctor returned.
"Poor Leather!" he said to himself: "he'll see that I have not deserted
him."
_Crop_, _crop_, _crop_; the horse went on browsing away upon the rich
grass, but keeping close at hand, as if liking its master's company, and
raising its head now and then to whinny softly.
The sun had gone down, and the glorious tints were dying out on and
beyond the mountains. Then a great planet began to twinkle in the soft
grey of the west, which rapidly grew of a dark purple, lit up again with
a warm glow and grew purple once more, with the planet now blazing like
a dazzling spot of silver hung high in the heavens.
Soon after, it would have been dark but for the glorious display of
golden stars which now encircled the vast arch overhead, far more
beautifully in that clear air than Nic ever remembered to have seen at
home.
And all this splendour of the heavens made him the more miserable, for
it seemed to him as if at such a time everything ought to be dark and
stormy.
The night birds were out, and strange cries, wails, and chuckling noises
reached his ears, mingled with the whirr and whizz of crickets and the
soft pipe and croak of frogs in and about a water-hole not far away.
Once or twice, half startled, Nic thought he saw dusky, shadowy figures
stealing along, and his heart beat fast; but he soon told himself that
it was all fancy, for if any one had approached the horse would have
been alarmed, whereas it was close at hand cropping the grass
contentedly, its loud puff of breath with which it blew away insects
upon the grass sounding regular in its intervals.
It was restful lying there, but Nic's faintness increased, and he was
glad to pick a few leaves and blades of grass to chew and keep down the
famished feeling which troubled him. But that calm night-time was
glorious for thought, and before long he had determined that, come what
might, he would wait for another hour or two and ride back to the
Wattles and set Leather free.
For he knew whereabouts the convict was imprisoned. The man who
attended to Sorrel had said it was behind the house. Then what could be
easier than to ride round, and, close up, find which was the big shed,
and give Leather a signal; and then, with one working outside, the other
in, it would be easy enough. Why, if he could not get the wooden bar
away with which these big sheds were mostly fastened, he could guide
Sorrel alongside, stand on the saddle, and remove some of the bark or
shingle roofing.
Nic forgot hunger, misery, and despair in the glow of exultation which
came over him, and he felt contempt for his readiness to give up and
think that all was over.
"More ways of killing a cat than hanging it," he said, with a little
laugh, and lying upon his back in a thoroughly restful position he set
himself to watch the stars, till all at once they turned blank, and he
leaped to his feet in alarm and went to pat his horse.
"That won't do," he muttered. "Done up, I suppose, and it was the lying
on my back and leaving off thinking. But I couldn't have slept for many
minutes."
For the matter of that the time might have been two or three hours, for
aught he could have told; but as it was he had not been asleep a minute
when he sprang back into wakefulness, and, determined now not to run any
more risks, he stopped with his horse, resting against its flank and
thinking of what a great solitary place he was in, and how strange it
seemed for that vast country to have so few inhabitants.
His aim was to wait until everybody would be asleep at the Wattles, and
then ride softly up, when he felt that there would be light enough for
his purpose, which ought not to take long.
The time glided away slowly, but at last he felt that he might start,
and after seeing that the bridle was all right he proceeded to tighten
the girths. But Sorrel had been pretty busy over that rich grass, and
Nic found that if he did anything to those girths he ought to let them a
little loose.
"You greedy pig!" he said, patting the horse affectionately, "eating
away like that and enjoying yourself when your master starves."
The horse whinnied.
"Ah! don't do that," said Nic in alarm. "You would spoil everything."
He mounted and cantered back for a good two miles, finding no
difficulty, for the horse went over the same ground again. Then Nic
drew rein and walked on and on till he thought he must have missed the
place in the dark; but all at once below him he saw a faint light move
for a few moments, and disappear.
Evidently a lantern which some one had carried into the house.
Nic checked his horse for quite a quarter of an hour, and then walked it
slowly down the slope, till there, dimly showing up before him, he could
make out building after building, looming all dim and ghostly-looking,
but plain enough to one whose eyes had grown accustomed to the dark.
But there were fences to avoid, and there was an enclosed garden; so the
boy felt that the wisest plan would be to take a pretty good circuit
round and then go up to the back.
Starting to do this, he was very nearly thrown, for Sorrel suddenly made
a tremendous bound and cleared a large tree trunk, which had been felled
and lay denuded of all its branches right across his way.
This was a shock; and it had other effects, for at the heavy beat of
hoofs a deep-mouthed dog suddenly set up a tremendous bark, which was
taken up by half a dozen more in chorus, accompanied by the rattling of
chains in and out of kennels.
Nic paused, with his heart beating, but the barking went on, and a voice
was heard to shout faintly:
"Lie down!"
But the dogs still barked, and a window was opened and a loud voice,
which Nic recognised, shouted:
"Hullo! What is it, my lads?"
The barking turned to a burst of whimpering and whining, and after a few
sharp commands to lie down Nic heard the window closed; and the rattling
of the dogs' chains began again, a whimper or two, and then all was
silent once more.
Meanwhile Nic had peered carefully round, and became aware of the fact
that there were several pieces of timber lying about, as if a group of
trees had been felled where he stood, and cautiously dismounting and
leading his horse, he began to guide it out of the dangerous place.
But he had hardly achieved this when the barking broke out again, making
Nic mount and ride slowly off, while the window was once more thrown
open, and the voice the boy had recognised as the magistrate's cried
sharply:
"What is it there, boys?" the dogs barking wildly in reply.
Just then a shrill whistle rang out, and directly after a man shouted.
"All right, sir, here!"
"What's the matter with the dogs, Belton?"
"Dunno, sir. Dingo, perhaps."
"Or something else. Here: go and see if that scoundrel's all right."
"He's all right, sir. I've been twice. Just come from there now."
"Humph! That's right, my lad. But they seem very uneasy."
"Well, yes, sir, they do," said the man; "but they often have a fit like
this. Lie down, will yer!"
There was a general rattling of chains at this, while every word had
come distinctly to Nic's ears in the soft silence.
"Good night."
"Good night, sir."
There was shutting of the window, and then the man said slowly:
"I'll bring a whip round to some on yer directly. Hold yer row!"
One dog barked as if protesting.
"Quiet, will yer!" cried the man. "Think nobody wants to sleep?"
Then silence, an uneasy rattle of a chain, the banging of a door, and
Nic wiped the perspiration from his brow.
The case seemed hopeless, but he would not give up. Twice over he tried
to get round to the back of the house, but the dogs were on the alert;
and the last time, just as he drew rein closer than he had been before,
the window was opened, two flashes of light cut the darkness, and there
came the double report of a gun, making Sorrel bound and nearly unseat
his rider.
"See any one, sir?" cried the man, hurrying out.
"No; but I'm sure there's some one about. Get your gun. I'll be down
directly, and we'll keep watch."
The window closed, and Nic heard the man growl at the dogs:
"You've done it now. Keep watch, eh? But I'll pay some on yer
to-morrow."
The dogs burst out barking again, for Nic was guiding his horse away in
despair, feeling that he could not accomplish his task; then he waited
till he was a few hundred yards distant, and cantered on, feeling that
in all probability some of the dogs would be loosened and come after
him.
As he rode he listened, and there was the yelping as of a pack, making
him urge Sorrel into a gallop; but the sounds died out, and at the end
of a mile he drew rein, for there was no suggestion of pursuit.
Nic walked his horse beneath one of the great trees, and sat there like
a statue, thinking, and trying hard to come to some determination. To
get at the building where Leather was imprisoned was not the easy task
he had thought. In fact, he felt now, that with all those dogs about,
that he had not noticed the previous afternoon, when they were probably
away with the shepherds, it was impossible.
"What shall I do?" he said to himself again; and he cudgelled his brain
in the hope of some idea coming, but all in vain.
And so a good hour passed, when, sick and in despair, he determined to
make one more essay, for he argued, with a bitter smile, "The dogs may
be asleep." At any rate he would try, and if he failed he would ride up
in the morning, and they should not flog the poor fellow while he was
there.
"Yes," he said, "the dogs may be asleep; but suppose Mr Dillon or his
men are keeping watch."
He had put his horse in motion, and was riding out of the black shadow,
but drew rein sharply, and Sorrel stopped short, for away in the
distance came the loud yelping and baying of dogs in pursuit of
something, just as he had heard them in the Kentish woods at home when
laid on the scent of a fox, but not with the weird, strange sound heard
now on the night air.
"What does it mean?" thought Nic, as his heart seemed to stand still and
then began to beat with heavy throbs; for the idea came that Leather had
broken out--was escaping--was coming in his direction; and at that
moment there was a pause--a silence which jarred the boy's nerves.
Had they got him?
No; for the dogs were in full pursuit once more, probably on the
fugitive's scent, and faintly heard there were shouts as of some one
urging the pack on.
How long what followed took Nic never knew, for he was listening,
intensely excited, and agitated as to whether he should go or stay, when
the thought came that perhaps the dogs were on his scent; but he cast
that idea away as foolish, for he had been mounted nearly all the time.
Then all at once, as the hounds were evidently coming nearer and the
shouts plainer, Nic felt that he must sit out the affair and hear what
had happened; when Sorrel drew a deep breath, there was a heavy
breathing, and a man came on at a steady trot straight for the shadow in
which Nic sat, so that the next moment he was upon him.
"Back, for your life!" came hoarsely, as the man raised his arm.
"Leather!"
"You here!" panted the convict. "But quick--they're after us. Canter
right away."
As he spoke he took a firm grip of the nag's mane, and as it sprang off
ran easily by its side, the docile beast making straight for home.
For some minutes they went on like this, with the sounds growing
fainter; and then the convict broke the silence.
"Master Nic," he whispered, "I am innocent, my lad. I did not use the
axe. That ruffian struck me with the fork handle till my manhood
revolted against it, and I knocked him down with my fist, boy--my fist."
"Yes, I know: Sam told me," said Nic hoarsely. "I came to try and get
you away."
"God bless you, my lad! I couldn't bear to stay there and be disgraced
more than I have. It was too hard."
"How did you escape?"
"Broke the handcuffs apart, climbed to the rafters, pulled open the bark
thatching and let myself down; but the dogs gave the alarm."
"Well, they shan't have you now," cried Nic, pulling up. "Jump on and
ride home. I'll run beside you. They can't take you away again."
The convict laughed bitterly.
"You foolish boy," he said gently, "the law is on their side. No.
Good-bye, lad. Don't forget me. You know the truth, but you must not
be mixed up with my escape. You have done nothing yet. Off with you--
home!"
"But you, Leather, what are you going to do?" said Nic huskily.
"Escape if I can, and I think I shall."
"But where--what to do? Wait till father comes home?"
"No. What can he do? Dillon will send me to the chain gang as a
dangerous man; and I am now, boy--I am, for it shall only be my dead
body they shall take."
"Leather!"
"No, Nic. Frank Mayne, an honest man. Home with you, boy!"
"But you?"
"I? There's room enough yonder. To begin a new life of freedom--a
savage among the blacks."
There was a smart blow of the open hand delivered on the horse's neck,
and the startled beast sprang forward into a wild gallop, which the boy
could not for the moment check. When he did, and looked round, there
was the darkness of the night, the cry of some wild bird; the baying of
the dogs had ceased, and he was quite alone.
"He can't be far," thought the boy, and he whistled softly again and
again, but there was no reply. He tried to pierce the darkness, but it
was very black now, and he noticed that the stars had been blotted out,
and directly after there came _pat_; _pat_, _pat_--the sound of great
drops of rain, the advance-guard of a storm.
It would have been useless to try and follow the convict, and at last
Nic let his impatient horse move on at a walk, then it cantered, and
then galloped straight for the Bluff, as if trying to escape from the
pelting rain, while it quivered at every flash and bounded on as the
lightning was followed by a deafening roar.
"There'll be no trail to follow," cried Nic exultantly; "it will all be
washed away, and he'll shelter himself under some tree. But hurrah! I
shall see him again. Let old Dillon flog the whipping-post, or, if he's
disappointed, let him have old Brookes."
For a peculiar feeling of exultation had come upon the boy, and the
storm, instead of being startling, seemed grand, till he rode into the
enclosure, seeing that lights were in three of the windows, and a trio
of voices cried:
"Nic, is that you?"
"Yes, all right," he shouted. "So hungry. In as soon as I've seen to
my horse."
Five minutes after he ran in dripping wet, and had hard work to keep
Mrs Braydon from embracing him.
"Not till I've changed, mother," he cried.
"But where have you been?"
"Over to Dillon's, to get him not to punish Leather, and let him come
away."
"Yes, Nic?" cried Janet excitedly.
"He wouldn't let him come."
Janet heaved a piteous sigh and sank back in her chair, while Nic
hurried to his room to get rid of his soaking garments.
When he came out to go to the room where the meal had been kept waiting
all those many hours for his return, he met Janet.
"You coward!" she whispered: "you have not tried."
"I did my best," whispered Nic. "But, I say, Jan, can you keep a
secret?"
"Yes: what?" she cried excitedly.
"Old Dillon must be as mad as mad. Leather has escaped, and has made
for the myall scrub."
Janet uttered a peculiar sound: it was caused by her pressing her hands
to her lips to suppress a cry, as she ran to her own room.
"Poor chap!" said Nic to himself. "I'm glad she likes him too."