IS IT TOO LATE?
It was the morning of the second day after Alec's return to Wandaroo
with his senseless burden in his arms. The sun was stealing into the
room through the half drawn curtains of the open windows, the scent of
the garden flowers was in the morning air, and from his cage in the
verandah a bird was pouring out its heart in song. Breakfast was over
two hours ago, and Mrs. Beffling was already coming to inquire "whether
the poorly gentlemen were ready for a little lunch." The room was full
of pleasant sounds of life and happy talking, for now that Alec, his
brown face ruddy with the glow of the sun, came in through the window,
all the family was assembled.
Geordie had been allowed to leave his room that morning; he was pale
and a little less noisy than was his wont, but, excepting a slight
tendency to stagger when he walked, he was otherwise much his old self.
He only wanted what Mrs. Beffling called "cockering up a bit," to be as
strong and hearty as ever. Yesslett was by his side, proud to be
employed by such a hero of romance as Geordie was. He himself was very
modest of his own share in the late adventures, though when his aunt
had kissed him and thanked him for the service he had rendered them all
by helping Alec to escape, he certainly felt a glow of pride and
happiness in his heart. He and Macleod had reached home, on the night
of the escape from Norton's Gap, only half an hour or so before Alec
arrived.
And who is that with one of Alec's coats slung loosely over his
bandaged arm? He is standing by the window talking earnestly with
Margaret, who, with parted, half smiling lips and downcast eyes, plays
with a fragile pink rose from the garden as she listens to his low
words. Martin looks pale, and, although standing squarely on his feet,
he leans against the window as though he still felt weak. He had lost
enough blood, the doctor said, to kill an ordinary man and had been
ordered to lie in bed, for some days at least, but Martin was too happy
to waste his time a-bed. He thought he had recognised in his sweet
nurse's face that which he longed to see there, and had, weak though he
was in body, that morning put to the test the question he had not dared
to ask when strong and well in his uncle's house, some months before,
in Brisbane. He had no ring or gage of love to give when they plighted
troth in the garden, but he had pulled a rosebud from the creeping bush
that grew against the house and gave it to Margaret.
"It is like the flower of love," he said, "that is daring now to
blossom in my heart."
As Alec came in through the open window, and looked from one to the
other of them, Margaret slowly blushed from throat to forehead, but
raised her honest eyes to his and looked him frankly in the face. She
was ashamed of nothing, but was proud of the great gift she gave and
took. Crosby laid his hand affectionately on Alec's shoulder, and
looked as though he were about to speak, but Alec, who, from what
Martin had told him before, knew something of all this, said--
"I understand. Margaret, I am very glad. Shall I tell mother?"
She shook her head.
"No, it will come best from myself. I will tell her at once."
"Margaret," said Mrs. Law at this moment from the other side of the
room, "here's Beffling been asking Mr. Crosby three times what he would
like for his lunch."
"There's some o' my beef-tea, sir, reel kind, which I can hot it in a
minnut. With a strip or two of toast it do relish of a mornin'. I'm
sure, sir, if I may mek so bold as t' say, you wants a little something
to bring back the colour to your cheeks. Or a chop now, done rare, but
brown o' the outside," said the buxom old creature, holding up one fat
finger to emphasise her description and smiling a seductive smile.
"Thank you, Mrs. Beffling, I should like them both, I'm sure," said
Crosby, stepping forward with a beaming face from the window, "but I
feel as though I had everything I want on earth, and therefore am not
hungry."
"Lucky bargee," said Yesslett to Geordie, who answered with an impudent
grin, for he had begun to suspect what turn things were taking.
"Which both it _shall_ be," said Mrs. Beffling, accepting the first
part of Martin's sentence, but utterly ignoring the latter half of it.
"Also the hegg beat up in milk for you, Mr. George; yes, you must, the
doctor says so, and I shall send it in whether you drinks it or no, and
every _drop_ is expected to be took." Quite breathless after this, but
smiling on the invalids as though they conferred a personal favour on
her by being ill, the kind-hearted old soul retreated to her fortress,
where she instantly set about preparing these few trifles for the
interesting convalescents.
To see her beaming face when she brought in a tray was better than any
doctor's stuff; and often and often have patients taken her nourishing
things when they loathed the very idea of food, sooner than disappoint
her or wound her feelings by refusing them.
"Yess," whispered Geordie, "you'll have to help me out with my jorum; I
haven't got over my breakfast yet."
"All right," said Yesslett, in the most obliging manner. He ought to
have ridden over to the South Creek Station that morning, but he had
struck, and nothing would induce him to go before to-morrow he said,
for he had not heard any of the boys' adventures yet, as Geordie had
not been allowed to talk much till that morning, and Alec had spent
nearly all yesterday either in Geordie's or Martin's room. Now, at
last, he had both of them, and Crosby as well, to question and to
listen to, "and that's what I mean to do," he said.
He did not do it then, however, for almost directly after Mrs. Beffling
had left the room the door was flung wide open and Macleod appeared, in
what, for him, was a white heat of indignation and anger, for the
sincere, cold-blooded, but affectionate old Scotsman rarely expressed
any emotion whatever.
"Did ony mon iver heer tell o' sich doen's? Ah've joost ridden uver
fra' Bateman, an' theer ah've seen, 'deed leddies it's true, that foul,
whamsie scrappit, Crosbie o' Brisbane. He's got a bit of a lawyer chap
wi' him, as a whitnuss, I suppoose, as all his doen's are legal
accordin' to law. He says he's coomin' to Wandaroo to put a mon in
legal possession o' the roon; and that unless we can produce £4,887
18s. 7d.," here the precise Macleod looked at a strip of paper, torn
from the edge of some journal, on which he had written the amount,
"this verra dae we all must pack; for this is the last o' the daes o'
grace agreed to i' the deed, and time is oop at twalve the dae. He says
he'll be heer at haif-past eleven to gie us time to make payment in
coin o' the realm or gould as agreed upon. He lached as he said it, the
black souled scoondrel, an' I rhode back streicht awa'. It's aboon
eleeven noo. What mun we do?"
Mrs. Law shook her head. She could do nothing. Although all her fears
were now being brought to pass she could not feel wholly unhappy or
wholly crushed; she had dreaded a greater loss, and now that her sons
were both restored to her, after so nearly losing both, she could not
help feeling that everything else was small compared with that great
mercy.
"I suppose we must go," she said. "The blow is harder coming from one
we trusted as a friend."
Geordie sprang up as Macleod finished speaking. His pale face was
brilliant with excitement. Alec had told him that as yet he had said
nothing of the gold, and that he meant to wait till George was strong
enough to go with him to rescue it from its hiding-place. His voice was
vibrating with triumph and delight as he said--
"Go, mother? Not we, indeed! What must you do, Macleod? Why, start off
with Alec and see what he thinks about matters. Alec, you know. Take
two or three men, and just look sharp about it. I wish I were strong
enough to go. I believe I am; I feel quite right."
But he found his strength was not equal to his courage when he came to
try.
"Yesslett, you go with Alec. It is more exciting than anything Crosby
or I can tell you. And now I am not going to say another word about it
till Alec comes back."
He was quite resolute, and notwithstanding the entreaties of Mrs. Law
and Margaret and Martin he would not give them any further clue to his
meaning.
Alec darted from the room, followed by Macleod and Yesslett, and a
moment afterwards they saw them from the verandah, riding towards "the
Dip" in the paddock, accompanied by Willetts and Howard from the Yarrun
Station, who happened to be ready mounted in the yard.
Rather more than half an hour after Alec's departure to "the Dip" there
was a great commotion amongst the dogs about the yard; they ran barking
to the other side of the house, as they never did but when strangers
rode up to the station. A moment or so afterwards Mrs. Beffling came
in, all floury as to her arms, and said that two gentlemen, "leastways,
ma'am, they wears coats and cloth trousers," had ridden up to the
house, and that they wished to see Mrs. Law.
"Yes, I expected them. Show them in here, Beffling," said Mrs. Law,
quite calmly.
Geordie was surprised to see how quietly his mother awaited her
unwelcome guests. He was alone in the room with Mrs. Law, as Crosby and
Margaret had gone into the garden just before.
It rather astonished George to find that Mr. Crosby, when he came in
the next moment, was not a cruel, miserly-looking man, for he had
depicted him in his imagination as a little, thin, and eager-faced man,
with hungry eyes and bird-like claws. Old Crosby was small, to be sure,
and had thin, tightly pursed-up lips, but the general expression of his
face was kindly, almost benign. His voice, when he spoke, matched it,
for it was smooth, insinuating, and false in every tone of it. He came
in smiling and settling his yellow, unwholesome-looking neck in his
limp shirt collar. His friend followed close behind him.
"Very sorry to have to come on unpleasant business, ma'am. Perhaps you
expected us? It gives me great pain to have to resort to extreme
measures, great pain, I assure you. I hope you have the money ready,"
said Crosby, hypocritically.
Here he tried to smile, and wiped his flushed and swollen looking face,
for he lied, and he knew that he did it clumsily, and he felt the
contemptuous eyes of Mrs. Law and Geordie upon him. It was the one wish
of his heart to get Wandaroo into his greedy clutches, and he felt that
it was his already. Still Mrs. Law did not speak, and, feeling the
silence very confusing, old Crosby continued--
"You see I'm in sad want of money, sad want, or I should never dream of
foreclosing. No one but a friend would have lent you so much on the
place."
_friend_
"No one but a _friend_, like you, would have extorted 15 per cent. upon
the sum that was lent us," said Mrs. Law, quietly.
"Oh, it's a sad business, a sad business. Women never understand these
things. Women ought never to meddle in business."
"Men ought never to take advantage of them if they do," said Geordie,
hotly.
"Who's that?" said the old man sharply. "Oh I see; very like his
father, very. Just what he would have said. What do you make the time,
Mr. Tuckle?" said Crosby, nervously fingering his watch, which he had
pulled from his pocket with a shaky hand.
"Twenty minutes to twelve, sir."
"Then you still have twenty minutes to pay me in," said Crosby, with an
oily cackle of laughter. "I'm sorry to have to insist upon strict
punctuality, but I must. Times are so hard, and I've had such a capital
offer made me for Wandaroo by a rich Englishman, just out--Harrison
Tait. Mr. Harrison Tait, that's his name. Up till twelve Wandaroo is
yours, ma'am, and then--unless, of course, you pay--it's mine. I think
I'm right, Mr. Tuckle?"
"Yes, to-day is the last day of grace, and it ends at twelve," said the
lawyer, who did not seem to greatly like the part he had to play in
this painful scene. He had been sent up by Mr. Tait to report to him
upon the estate, the title-deeds of which old Crosby had agreed to hand
over to him at once.
"Won't you gentlemen take seats?" said Mrs. Law, in her most dignified
way; and then, to keep up the reputation for hospitality which Wandaroo
had always possessed, she added, "And may I offer you any refreshment?
I suppose I can do so for, at least, the next twenty minutes."
As Mrs. Law was speaking Martin and Margaret stepped into the room. Mr.
Crosby grew even more flushed and purple than before when he saw his
nephew.
"Hey, you fellow! Confound you, what are _you_ doing here?" he said, in
the most insulting manner.
"You will kindly remember, sir," said Mrs. Law, waxing indignant, "that
this is not your house as yet, and that this gentleman is my guest."
"Gentleman, indeed! He is my nephew."
"The two things certainly are not very compatible," said Mrs. Law,
quietly.
"What am I doing here?" said Martin, with an amused look on his face.
"Why, I am wooing my wife. This lady, notwithstanding the fact that she
will thereby become your niece, which _is_ a drawback, has consented to
marry me."
"Marry her!" almost shrieked the elder Crosby. "Why, she is a beggar."
"And so am I, and a very lucky beggar, too. Now, don't put yourself
about, or you'll have an apoplectic fit as sure as fate. You know what
the doctor said. You do look as though you were going to have one this
morning."
"Martin!" roared the passionate old man, "if you marry--"
"Don't go on. I know exactly what you are going to say. You will
disinherit me. Eh? For goodness sake do it, and have done with it at
once. That threat is quite worn out. Don't foam at the mouth, it's
unseemly."
"Hush," said Margaret, laying her hand on Martin's arm. "Remember he is
your uncle after all."
As the minutes sped by and no Alec appeared, Geordie began to grow
terribly anxious lest, after all, Alec could not get at the gold in
time, and that Wandaroo would, as it were, slip through their very
fingers for the want of a single hour's work. He could not sit still,
but fidgetted about the room in a state of sickening suspense. Every
half minute he went out on to the verandah to see if the party were yet
returning, and, as the minutes passed, and no Alec came, an awful
feeling of despair began to creep over him. It was too cruel to be
borne, that after all their labour, all their dangers, and all their
sufferings, the gold they had won should yet be too late for its
purpose. Margaret and Mrs. Law, having given up all hopes, and not
understanding Geordie's excitement or Alec's sudden departure, were
quite calm now that the hour had come.
Ten minutes to twelve; nine minutes to; eight minutes to; still no sign
of Alec. Geordie was on the verandah, gazing eagerly across the
paddock. Not the sound of a hoof could he hear. He could have yelled
from the intensity of his distress and mortification; as it was he only
thrust his hands deep into his trousers pockets, and grimly clutched
their contents.
Seven minutes to twelve!
"We may as well go," said old Crosby, mopping his perspiring face. "It
is no use our waiting."
"It isn't twelve yet," cried George, rushing into the room.
"Well, six minutes won't do much for you, I expect," said Tuckle.
George hurried back to the verandah. Was that the sound of horses madly
galloping up the hill? Yes, _yes_, it was! Hurrah! He could see them
now rising over the ridge and entering the yard. He rushed along the
verandah, weak though he was, and shrieked--
"Make haste. Bring it in, bring it in. You'll be in time yet."
For he saw that the riders held the muddy, black and streaming bags of
gold.
[Illustration: "'YOUR PRICE IS THERE!'" (_p. 279._)]
Inside the room Mr. Crosby had just risen from his chair; there was an
evil look of triumph on his shiny, crimson face. He slipped his watch
back into his pocket as he rose.
"Two minutes to twelve; nothing _can_ help it now. _Wandaroo is mine!_"
As he spoke, whilst the very words were on his lips, the door burst
open, and panting, breathless, sweating with the heat and labour, Alec
and the other men dashed headlong into the room. His hat was off, his
curly hair was tumbled, his eyes gleamed with happiness and intolerable
excitement, and his voice rang high with a mad triumph.
"Hold hard! _'tis not_, for your price is there!" As he spoke he and
the other men threw down their burdens--the room shook with the
ponderous weight--and many of the bags bursting open with the fall
poured their treasure of gold in a stream at Crosby's feet.
For a moment there was a thrilling silence in the room. The feelings of
all were too high-strung for words. The first to break it was Mr.
Crosby; his face was grey and ghastly, his whole figure had become
altered and stricken in that one minute. In a dry, shrill voice, he
whined to Tuckle--
"I won't have it; I refuse it. Must I take it?"
"I fear you must. English coin is so scarce in the Colony that the
Government at Brisbane has decided that, for a time, gold, such as
this, is legal tender at £4 the ounce."
Macleod laughed. "Wull ye tak' the whole amoont wi' ye noo?"
"Send it after us to Bateman," said Tuckle, speaking for Crosby, as he
went out to get their horses.
Martin saw that his uncle had received a cruel blow, and that he looked
ill and very aged, and, feeling pity for him, he offered him the
support of his arm, but the old man flung it aside and tottered from
the room alone.
The action was typical of his life. He had always spurned that which
should have been his greatest happiness. He never saw his nephew again,
for after reaching Bateman that day, overwhelmed with chagrin and
futile passion, he was struck down with the fit the doctors had
foretold. He died before Martin could reach him, and before he could
alter, had he wished to do so, the will which made his nephew his sole
heir. So that after all the gold for which the boys had been in quest
did not go out of the family, for the morning that Martin and
Margaret--sound friends and true lovers--became one, "till death does
them part," Alec and Geordie received back from their new brother the
title-deeds of Wandaroo, which he had found amongst his uncle's papers,
and for which he steadily refused to take an ounce of the--to
him--unnecessary gold.
THE END.
PRINTED BY CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED, LA BELLE SAUVAGE, LONDON, E.C.