suspicion of a certain hopeful youth known by the name of Renwick? That's the case, isn't it?" "It is the case," I said, "and I won't be cross-examined any longer. When the proper time comes, I shall not be slow in doing what I owe to society." With a bow, which to my mind seemed more akin to mockery than politeness, he departed. I don't think I ever felt more dismal than I felt all that evening. For the life of me I could not help thinking that I was in the Detective's bad books-that, in short, he believed me to be wrapped in the ample folds of Renwick's dark mantle of guilt. At length, after long meditation, I resolved to tell everything to Jacob. I did so that night, without, of course, referring to the adventure of the bushrangers, further than by the observation that a circumstance had occurred to me on the way up, which confirmed very strongly my suspicions, but that I was not at liberty to describe it. He listened attentively, and paused a long time before he made a remark. "There is something in this," he said at last, "which we neither of us understand. I confess it smothers me. Do you know now," he added, "the most singular thing of all is, the demeanour and language of the Detective towards you. I can make nothing of it. Nothing." "I don't believe in the Detective at all," I said. "I think him a humbug." "Possible, possible," said Jacob, "but I tell you what-don't you think it would be well for us to constitute ourselves special (private) constables, for the defence of poor John ?" "Agreed," said I. "Peg-leg Gully is only three miles away, you tell me. We might take a walk over there in the evenings." "Be it so,” replied Jacob; "we will go over next Saturday. We can carry our blankets, and spend Sunday with him. Saturday night is the time for violence and outrage." IV. A DAY or two after this I rode into Bendigo for letters, and was within a mile of Eagle Hawk on my way back when I met the commissioner with his two orderlies. He pulled up his horse and asked me had I come from Bendigo? Yes. Did I know if the two men had been arrested who were suspected of the murder of Cleary? Yes. They had been arrested that morning. He then directed his orderlies to return, and inquired if I had met a gentleman on a white horse? How far might he be in front by this time? About a mile. He then rode off. I had not ridden a hundred yards when I met Renwick on his splendid chestnut. He bowed to me, his face expanded in a genial laugh, which I answered with a prodigious scowl. "Commissioner gone on?" said he. "Plenty of tin on him, I hope." I wheeled my horse round at this, half resolved to follow him; but, I blush to confess it, his genial and hearty laugh when he saw my movement made me pause. I could not resist the idea that he was humbugging me. Besides, I thought, the commissioner is well armed, he will have overtaken his friend. Renwick will not think of sticking up two. Accordingly, I turned my horse's head homewards once more, and proceeded at a slow pace. In less than ten minutes the commissioner overtook me, wild with excitement. He had been stuck up and robbed of his gold watch and a few sovereigns. "You were robbed," said I, as he pulled up his horse for a moment, "by "Yes, by three masked men-damn them. I am going for my orderlies and the constables." "Stay, please, for one moment," I broke in ; "did you meet a young fellow on a chestnut horse?" "I did: he came up just as they had started off. He gallopped after them like a Briton. A plucky young fellow that." "Oh, yes; very plucky," I thought. Good heavens! what a clever ruffian! How beautifully he had timed it! I told the affair to Jacob when I came home, and I am sorry to say that he laughed so heartily that I also was affected, and we laughed it out. Two days after that, I am glad to say, two of the bushrangers were apprehended, and afterwards sentenced to transportation for life. It was the possession of the watch that convicted them. Renwick was not suspected, and his guilty partners made no sign. On the evening of Saturday, at sun-down, we left Eagle Hawk for Peg-leg Gully, with our thick blankets on our shoulders. It was long after dark that we came in sight of the tents, from which we kept a wide offing, as it was not very safe to come up to a tent after nightfall. Two tents stood at the further side of the Gully, far removed from the crowded mass of canvas, but separated from each other about twenty yards. In one of these lived John Singleton. It was almost surrounded by thick bushes, to which it was in close proximity; but we could well discern it by the strong light of a muttonfat lamp within. The night was cloudy, and intensely dark; the numerous fires along the Gully on both sides were too distant to illuminate the spot. Suddenly, Jacob called my attention to the shadows of several figures that appeared through the thin corners of the tent. "Very strange," said he, in a low voice. "John admits no one into his tent. We must be careful here. I hope nothing is wrong." We advanced carefully through the bushes, but we could not avoid making a slight noise. "Is that you, Mat?" said a whispering voice. I pressed Jacob's arm. He answered, "All right," and we moved forward again. But, all at once, there was a shout, and a stamping of feet in the tent, and a man sprang up beside me, whom I seized and threw to the ground. 66 Here, Jacob," I exclaimed, "help me to deal with this fellow." "Let me go, you damned fool," said a voice -the voice of Renwick; "let me go at once, or it will be too late." "Not too late for you to be hanged," I replied. "Murderer, I would not let you go for the Crown of England." He gave a whistle and up came a man. "Whom have you here?" said he. It was the Detective. 66 Renwick, the murderer,” said I. "I'll take charge of him now. Morris." 66 Here, sir." "Bind this man and keep him safe." So saying, he rushed to the tent, followed by Jacob and me. A curious sight was there. John was standing at one side of the tent, which was a very roomy one, with a triumphant smile on his grim face. Five men with scowling brows, and hang-dog looks, were standing at the end of the tent farthest from the entrance; while inside the entrance stood six constables, five of them with their carbines presented, each of them covering a man-dead. The sixth held his carbine half-raised. Burton entered. "Tom Evans," he said, in a loud and stern voice, "advance to the front!" Not one of the five stirred. I ask you but once more," said the officer; "you are armed to the teeth, and I should be justified in shooting you dead or crippling you at once." He deliberately cocked a pistol and raised it in the direction of the fellow's breast. "Tom Evans, advance to the front. One, two.---" "Mercy!" exclaimed the other, stepping forward with trembling limbs. He was at once handcuffed and secured, as were all the others. John informed us that two of the men had met him the day before, and pressed him eagerly to join them the next evening in the other tent, as they had got some good grog. Feeling certain that something was up, he communicated this to the Detective, who had seen him after his interview with me; and, by his advice, went to the appointed place, pretended to grow drunk, reeled with them and three others who had joined them, to his own tent, fell down apparently insensible, and saw them tearing up the ground under his bunk until they came to his gold; watched them as they greedily snatched at it; heard them debating whether they would throw his body into old Larkin's hole, or sink it in the red water-hole with a big stone round the neck. They had finally resolved on this last course, when he gave the concerted shout that brought the officers upon them. "I need hardly tell ye, gentlemen," said he. "that I did not taste their grog, as I know'd it were hocussed." V. TIME went on; several months elapsed. Jacob and I were resolved to see these prisoners tried; so we went down to Melbourne. It was not without much difficulty that we could gain admittance into the courthouse, so great was the interest excited by the deeds of the bushrangers, against all of whom true bills had been found for numerous crimes. They stood side by side in the front part of the dock, dressed in respectable clothes; but nothing could tone down their hardened, ruffianly features. We looked in vain for Renwick; he was not amongst them. "He is dead, I presume, Jacob,” said I. "It is most probable," he replied; "I almost hope he is." The indictments were read, the pleading ("Not guilty") recorded, the first witness was called, when-heavens above !-who should enter the witness-box but Renwick ! He was sworn. "Your name?" "Samuel Haughton." "Your occupation?" "INSPECTOR OF THE VICTORIA DETECTIVE POLICE ! " "Give me a devil of a hard pinch, Jacob," I whispered; "I am dreaming very hard." "Egad, my boy," he replied, "I have seen some sells; but I shall dry up after this." But only to hear the evidence of that young man ! Never did sleuth-hound pursue trail, as he had followed up the murderers' tracks. His perils, his escapes, his deeds of daring, his vigilant sagacity, his perseverance through obstacles that would appal, one should think, any mortal being; finally, his triumph crowned by the extirpation of a gang of the direst miscreants that ever cursed this earth-all this was told with a modesty and calmness that frequently caused a hum of astonishment and admiration throughout the heaving mass of hearers. The prisoners were condemned to death, and were soon after executed. On the evening of that day, Burton, Haughton, Jacob, and myself were sitting at a table in a snug room in Scott's Club Hotel. Over our walnuts and old port, Haughton condescended to answer a few questions which I put to him. "Poor Old Nosey! He was killed by Lud wick, a German. He confessed the murder two days after. That bushranger that was in our bed-room with me? He was one of my most useful men. Through him and two others I was believed to be a pal. I had often suspected him of doing business on his own account, but I wasn't sure, until the day you were led into the scrub. How did I know about that affair? Bless you, I knew the tracks of that fellow's horse, that led you off, as well as I know the sign-board of Scott's Hotel. I followed them until I met the three poor fellows that were robbed. They told me all I didn't know." I felt that everything could be as easily explained; therefore, I asked no more questions; but I noticed that Jacob was fidgety and restless, a circumstance which could hardly escape the quick eye of Haughton. "Have you nothing to say, Jacob?" he asked, with his old laugh; "no question to ask?" "I? Oh, no; that is-nothing. Only-yes, nothing whatever." His confusion was very odd. Haughton and the Londoner laughed heartily. "I think something yet has to be said," remarked the former, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out some papers. "Read this aloud." I took the paper, and found it to be a letter from the governor of a neighbouring colony to the chief of the police at Melbourne, in which it was stated that the police must have made a great mistake, as Mr. A. B. C. (my name at full length), had brought him letters of introduction from Earl Grey, and several leading members of Parliament, who had known him from childhood. "Now read that," said he, handing me another; "this only arrived by the English Mail yesterday." It was a letter addressed to the Governor of Victoria (whose guest I had been), from the Lord Lieutenant of my native county in Ireland, expressing his great surprise at the contents of his letter of such and such a date. The family of So-and-so (me again!) was an old county family, and the member who had emigrated, bore the highest character. It ended with the expression of an earnest wish that the originator of a story so injurious and so groundless should be exposed and punished. "In the name of heaven!" I exclaimed, "what is the meaning of all this?" "It means,” replied Haughton, "that your friend, the son of the post-captain, denounced you secretly as a dangerous man, who was striving to renew the treasonous deeds of '48; that he accused you of forging to the amount of £5000, and said that you had bolted to avoid arrest." "But what could be his motive?" said I. "Revenge for your exposal of him, and perhaps to obtain your well-stored portmanteaus by a forged order from your prison. Who knows?" "Ah, who indeed?" said Jacob; "however, all is cleared up now. Haughton, your hand, old fellow. You're a regular unmitigated, unmistakeable brick. That's the size of it." "I think," I broke in, "that I could give a tolerable guess why you personated the brother of the dead man.” "Well, new chum, out with it." "Why, you feared that the rowdies there would have appropriated the horse and swag." "Right you are, Innocent," said he, gaily; "you'll become an eye-opener in time. There were three men there who would never have permitted a single officer to carry of the spoil; while his brother carried with him the sympathies of the mob. I left the horse and saddle-bags with Sergeant Carroll, who was at a neighbouring station. But, new chum, one final word about yourself. I had to keep my eye on you until we should hear something. I did not require your personal identification as I knew you myself, but that was long ago, and you might (don't be angry) have gone to the bad in the interval." "Where did you ever see me before?" I asked. "At the old school of Portorn. I joined it shortly before you left for college; but I have never forgotten how you saved me from the hands of that bully, Hedgethorn, and the awful hammering you gave him for beating such a small boy as me." "I recollect it well," I said; "you see my knuckle has never been quite right since." "You will now understand the awkwardness of my manner to you," said the London inspector, with a merry glance. "Yes," said I, shaking him heartily by the hand, "for a very great authority has said: The bearin' of an observation lays in the application on it." MY LADY. Y Lady's house is sweet and small, M The greenest ivy drapes the wall, And through the little casement peeps; And lull my Lady when she sleeps. Deep fields of amber-coloured corn, Fired with pied lights of eve and morn! Against the slumbrous noontide heat, Beneath a trellis cool and green; And if she dream a waking dream, With music heard long years ago. My rustic Lady's lily hand With all the sweetest flowers that bloom; She hath full many a motley plot, Her gravel walks are edged with box, Broad, purplest pansies freaked with jet! At intervals my Lady rears With lilies in the interspace; But all the lily's delicate white, And all the rose's blushing light, May vie not with my Lady's face! She loves each weak and gentle thing; The shy, small bird will sit and sing Beside her; not a bird in air, Nor timid creature in the land, Is fearful of my Lady's hand, So tender is her face and fair! Books, music, painting, rhymes, and flowers, She hath no toil, no grief, no care! Against her little chamber wall Some vision marvellously sweet! |