"Thank you. Then you have ridden a hundred and fifty miles since yesterday morning, besides having two fights; and all because you were uneasy about me?"
"I had, as you see, good reason to be uneasy, Miss Ellison."
At this moment a horse's hoofs were heard approaching, and Jim galloped up. He had, on arriving at the station, been unable to obtain any information as to what had taken place. Mrs. Donald was in a dead faint. Mrs. Barker had, just before he arrived, ridden off to meet her husband; but the dead body of the constable, by the door, and the disappearance of Kate, showed him what had taken place; and he at once started after his master.
His horse, however, was a very inferior one to that ridden by Reuben, and until he met the constable returning, he had been obliged to follow the track of the horses in front; so he did not arrive at the scene of the fray till half an hour after its conclusion. He uttered exclamations of dismay, at seeing his master's condition; for Reuben had been gradually growing faint, and could now scarcely support himself on his elbow.
Jim, however, had taken the precaution to snatch a bottle of spirits from the shelf, before he started; having an eye to his own comforts, as well as to the possibility of its being required. He now knocked off the neck, and poured some into the cup of Reuben's flask, and put it to his lips.
"Thank you, Jim; that is just what I wanted."
"Massa lie down quiet," Jim said. "No good sit up;" and, gathering a large bunch of grass, he placed it under Reuben's head; and Reuben lay quiet, in a half dreamy state, until Mr. and Mrs. Barker rode up.
Kate rose to her feet as they approached; but she was so stiff and bruised, with her fall, that she could scarcely move forward to meet Mrs. Barker; and burst into tears, as her friend threw her arms round her.
"That's right, my poor child," Mrs. Barker said. "A cry will do you good. Thank God, my dear Kate, for your rescue."
"I do indeed, Mrs. Barker. It seems almost a miracle."
"Captain Whitney seems to spring out of the ground, whenever he's wanted. He seems hurt badly. The constable said it was a broken collarbone, but it must be something a good deal worse than that."
"Oh, don't say so, Mrs. Barker, after what he's done for me. If he were to die!"
"There, there, don't tremble so, child. We must hope that it is not so bad as that; but he would hardly be looking so bad as he does, for only a broken collarbone. My husband broke his—one day the horse ran away with him, among some trees—and he was up and about again, in a day or two.
"Is he badly hurt, do you think, John?" she asked her husband, who was kneeling beside Reuben.
"I hope not," the settler said. "He ought not to be like this, only from a wound in the collarbone; but of course it may have glanced down, and done some internal mischief. I am inclined to think that it is extreme exhaustion, as much as anything—the reaction after a tremendous nervous excitement."
"He has ridden a hundred and fifty miles, since yesterday morning," Kate said, "and has had two fights, besides this. Directly he knew that the leader of the bush rangers had escaped, he came on by himself."
"Oh! They caught the bush rangers, did they?" Mr. Barker said, joyfully. "I was afraid, by his getting back here so soon, that they must have missed them somehow, and found they were on the wrong scent.
"And he has ridden all the way back, has he? A very zealous officer, Miss Ellison, a very zealous young officer, indeed."
But Kate was too anxious, and shaken, to mark the significance of Mr. Barker's tone.
"Don't tease her," his wife said, in a low voice. "She is terribly upset and shaken, and can hardly stand.
"Ah! What is that?"
The interruption was caused by a low groan from the fallen bush ranger.
"Shoot him dead, sah," Jim, who was supporting his master's head, exclaimed. "Don't let dat fellow come 'live no longer."
"I can't do that, Jim," Mr. Barker said, moving towards the fallen man. "The man is a thorough scoundrel, a murderer, and a robber; but he is harmless now. One cannot wish he should recover, even for his own sake; for there is enough against him to hang him, ten times over. However, we must do what we can for the poor wretch."
So saying, he mixed some brandy with a little water in the cup, and poured it between the bush ranger's lips.
"Is it mortal?" Mrs. Barker asked, as he rejoined her.
"I think so," he said. "I fancy he is shot through the lungs.
"You must really sit down, Miss Ellison. You look as white as a ghost, and we cannot have you on our hands, just now. We have got them pretty full, as they are.
"Ah! Here comes the cart."
The constable had put a quantity of straw in the bottom of the light cart, and Barker and Jim raised Reuben, and laid him in it.
"We must take the other, too," Mr. Barker said. "The man is alive, and we can't leave him here."
"Yes," Kate said; "he must go, too. He did Reuben a great wrong, years ago. I hope he will confess it, before he dies."
Mr. Barker glanced at his wife, as Kate used the young officer's Christian name; but she was not thinking of Captain Whitney of the police, but of the boy Reuben, who had been accused of poisoning her father's dog, and of committing a burglary from his house.
"You had better get up in front, with the constable, Miss Ellison," the settler said, when the two wounded men had been placed in the cart. "You certainly are not fit to ride.
"Or, look here, the constable shall take my horse, and I will drive; and then I can look after you, and you can use me for a prop, if you feel weak; but before we start, I must insist on your taking a sip of brandy and water.
"It is no use your saying no," he persisted, as the girl shook her head. "We shall have you fainting before you get home, if you don't."
Kate did as she was ordered. Mr. Barker then helped her up to her seat. As she got up, her eyes fell upon Reuben's face.
"Oh, Mr. Barker!" she said. "He looks dead. You are not deceiving me, are you?"
"Bless me, no!" the settler said, cheerfully. "My opinion is that he's dead asleep. The loss of blood, the sudden reaction after the long excitement, and the exhaustion of his ride have completely overcome him; and my opinion is that he is sound asleep.
"Jim, do you lead your master's horse, while the constable takes the other; and then you two had better ride on, and help Mrs. Donald get things ready. Get a bed up at once, for Captain Whitney; and get some clean straw in the outhouse, with one of the rugs over it, for the other."
So saying, he touched the horse with the whip, and the cart moved slowly on, with Mrs. Barker riding beside it. She would have gone on ahead, to have assisted in the preparations; but she expected, momentarily, to see Kate faint, and thought it better to remain with her, in case her assistance should be required.
The journey occupied some time, for Mr. Barker picked the way carefully, so as not to jolt the cart. Mrs. Barker endeavoured to keep Kate's attention fixed, by asking her questions as to what she had heard about the expedition, wondering when it would return, and whether any of the settlers were hurt. When they got within half a mile of home, she said:
"I think, dear, you are looking a little better now. I will ride on. Fortunately there is the beef tea we made, last night, for Mr. Donald. I will get it made hot, and I will get a cup of strong tea ready for you. That will do wonders."
When the cart arrived Mrs. Donald ran out and, as Kate descended, clasped her in a long embrace.
"Come straight in here, my dear," Mrs. Barker said. "I have got a basin of cold water, and a cup of strong tea, and the two together will do marvels. We will attend to your wounded hero."
Reuben remained perfectly quiet and inert, as he was lifted out and carried into the house, where a bed had been made up for him in a room on the ground floor.
"Just lay him down. Throw a blanket over him, and let him lie perfectly quiet."
"Do you think he is really asleep?" Mrs. Barker asked, as she looked at the quiet face.
"I do, really," her husband replied. "Put your ear close to his mouth. He is breathing as quietly as a child.
"And," he added, placing his fingers on Reuben's wrist, "his pulse is a little fast, but regular and quiet. Twenty-four hours of sleep will set him up again, unless I am greatly mistaken. I don't expect that his wound will turn out anything very serious.
"Let me think. Was it not this afternoon that Ruskin said he would be back again?"
"Yes, either yesterday or today."
"That is lucky. He will be surprised at finding two new patients on his hands, now.
"I will go and have a look at that poor wretch in the shed. Give me a cupful of beef tea. I will pour a spoonful or two between his lips. You had better go and look after Kate. You will not be needed here, at present.
"If your master wakes, Jim, let us know directly," he said to the black, who had seated himself on the ground by the side of Reuben's bed.
"I can't call the poor fellow away from his master," he added to his wife, as he closed the door behind them; "but I am really anxious to know what has taken place, out in the bush; and whether many of our fellows have been killed. If, as Kate said, she heard the captain tell the bush ranger that all his band had been killed, except one who is a prisoner, it has indeed been a most successful expedition; and we colonists can hardly be sufficiently grateful, to Whitney, for having rid us of these pests. What with that, and the thrashing the blacks have had, we shall be able to sleep quietly for months; which is more than we have done for a long time."
Kate came out of the room, with Mrs. Donald, a minute later. The basin of cold water and the tea had had the effect Mrs. Barker predicted. A little colour had returned into her cheeks, and she looked altogether more like herself.
"How is he?" Mrs. Donald asked.
"In my opinion, he's doing capitally, Mrs. Donald. His pulse is quiet and even, and he's breathing as quietly as a child; and I believe he is simply in a state of exhaustion, from which he is not likely to wake till tomorrow morning; and I predict that, in a few days, he will be up and about. Indeed, if that bullet hasn't misbehaved itself, I see no reason why he shouldn't be up tomorrow."
"That is indeed a relief, to us both," Mrs. Donald said, while Kate could only clasp her hands in silent thankfulness.
"And now, how is your husband? I hope he is none the worse, for all this exertion."
"He was terribly agitated, at first," Mrs. Donald said. "I fainted, you know, and he got out of bed to help me up; and it was as much as I could do, when I recovered, to get him to lie down; for he wanted to mount and ride after Kate, although, of course, he is as weak as a child, and even with my help he could scarcely get into bed again.
"Fortunately Mrs. Barker ran in, before she started on horseback to fetch you, to say that the constable was off in pursuit, and that quieted him. Then I think he was occupied in trying to cheer me, for as soon as he was in bed I broke down and cried; till the constable came back to say that Captain Whitney had overtaken, and shot, the bush ranger."
Three hours later, to the great relief of all, the surgeon arrived. He was first taken in to look at Reuben, having been told all the circumstances of the case; and he confirmed Mr. Barker's opinion that he was really in a deep sleep.
"I would not wake him, on any account," he said. "It is a great effort of nature, and he will, I hope, awake quite himself. Of course, I can't say anything about the wound, till he does.
"Now for his antagonist."
The bush ranger was still unconscious, though occasionally broken words came from his lips. The surgeon examined his wound.
"He is shot through the lungs," he said, "and is bleeding internally. I do not think that there is the shadow of a chance for him, and no one can wish it otherwise. It will only save the colony the expense of his trial.
"And now for my original patient."
He was some time in Mr. Donald's room and, when he came out, proceeded at once to mix him a soothing draught, from the case of medicines he carried behind the saddle.
"We must get him off to sleep, if we can," he said; "or we shall have him in a high state of fever, before morning. A man in his state can't go through such excitement as he has done, without paying the penalty.
"And now, I suppose, I have done," he said with a smile, as Mrs. Donald left the room with the medicine.
"Yes, I think so," Mrs. Barker said. "If you had come an hour earlier, I should have put this young lady under your charge; but I think that the assurance of my husband, that Captain Whitney was doing well, has been a better medicine than you could give her."
"No wonder she is shaken," Mr. Ruskin remarked.
"Mrs. Barker tells me you had a heavy fall, too, Miss Ellison."
"Yes," she replied. "I was stunned for a time but, beyond being stiff and bruised, I am none the worse for it."
"Look here, Miss Ellison," the doctor said, after putting his fingers on her wrist, "I suppose you will want to be about, tomorrow, when our brave army returns. Now, there is nothing you can do here. Mrs. Donald can nurse her husband. The other two require no nursing. Mrs. Barker, I am sure, will take charge of the house; and therefore, seriously, I would ask you to take this draught I am about to mix for you, and to go upstairs and go to bed, and sleep till morning."
"I could not sleep," Kate protested.
"Very well, then, lie quiet without sleeping; and if, in the evening, you find you are restless, you can come down for an hour or two; but I really must insist on your lying down for a bit.
"Now, Mrs. Barker, will you take this medicine up, and put this young lady to bed."
"I hope she will get off to sleep," Mrs. Barker said, when she came downstairs again.
"I have no doubt whatever about it," Mr. Ruskin replied. "I have given her a very strong sleeping draught, far stronger than I should think of giving, at any other time; but after the tension that the poor girl must have gone through, it would need a strong dose to take effect. I think you will hear nothing more of her, till the morning."
Indeed, it was not until the sun was well up, the next morning, that Kate Ellison woke. She could hardly believe that she had slept all night; but the eastern sun, coming in through her window, showed her that she had done so. She still felt bruised and shaken all over, but was otherwise herself again. She dressed hastily, and went downstairs.
"That's right, my dear," Mrs. Barker, who was already busy in the kitchen, said. "You look bonny, and like yourself."
"How are my brother and Captain Whitney?" Kate asked.
"I don't think Mr. Donald is awake, yet," Mrs. Barker replied; "but Captain Whitney has just gone out to the shed, with my husband and the surgeon."
"Gone out to the shed!" Kate repeated, in astonishment.
"Yes, my dear. That poor wretch out there is going fast. He recovered consciousness about two hours ago. The constable was sitting up with him. He asked for water, and then lay for some time, quite quiet.
"Then he said, 'Am I dreaming, or was it Reuben Whitney I fought with?'
"'Yes, it was Captain Reuben Whitney, our inspector,' the constable replied.
"For a time he lay quiet again, and then said: 'I want to see him.'
"The constable told him he was asleep, and couldn't be woke.
"'Is he badly wounded?' the man asked. 'I know I hit him.'
"'Not very badly, I hope,' the constable answered.
"'When he wakes ask him to come to me,' the man said. 'I know I am dying, but I want to see him first. If he can't come, let somebody else come.'
"The constable came in and roused the doctor, who went out and saw him, and said he might live three or four hours yet.
"Soon afterwards, just as the sun rose, Jim came out, to say that his master was awake. Mr. Ruskin went in to him and examined his wound, and probed the course of the bullet. It had lodged down just at the bottom of the shoulder bone. I am glad to say he was able to get it out. When he had done, he told his patient what the bush ranger had said; and Captain Whitney insisted upon going out to him."
"It won't do him any harm, will it?" Kate asked anxiously.
"No, my dear, or Mr. Ruskin would not have let him go. I saw him as he went out, and shook hands with him and, except that nasty bandage over his face, he looked quite himself again. As I told you, a broken collarbone is a mere nothing and, now we know where the bullet went and have got it out, there is no occasion for the slightest anxiety.
"Here they come again, so you can judge for yourself."
A very few words passed between Reuben and Kate; for Mrs. Barker, who saw how nervous the girl was, at once began to ask him questions about what the bush ranger had said.
"He has made a confession, Mrs. Barker, which your husband has written down, and Mr. Ruskin and Smithson have signed. It is about a very old story, in which I was concerned when a boy; but it is a great gratification for me to have it cleared up, at last. I was accused of poisoning a dog, belonging to Miss Ellison's father; and was tried for a burglary, committed on the premises, and was acquitted, thanks only to Miss Ellison's influence, exerted on my behalf—
"I fear," he said with a slight smile, "somewhat illegally.
"However, the imputation would have rested on me all my life, if it had not been for Thorne's confession. I thought that he did the first affair. I knew that he was concerned in the second, although I could not prove it; but he has now made a full confession, saying that he himself poisoned the dog, and confirming the story I told at the trial."
"Oh, I am glad!" Kate exclaimed. "You know, Captain Whitney, that I was sure of your innocence; but I know how you must have longed for it to be proved to the world.
"What will you do, Mr. Barker, to make it public?"
"I shall send a copy of the confession, properly attested, to the magistrates of Lewes; and another copy to the paper which, Captain Whitney tells me, is published there weekly.
"It is curious," he went on, "that the sight of Whitney should have recalled those past recollections; while, so far as I could see, everything that has happened afterwards, his career of crime and the blood that he has shed, seem altogether forgotten."
"I suppose there is no hope for him?" Kate asked, in a low voice.
"He is dying now," Mr. Barker said. "Ruskin is with him. He was fast becoming unconscious when we left him, and Ruskin said that the end was at hand."
A quarter of an hour later the surgeon came in, with the news that all was over.
"Now, Captain Whitney, you must come into your room, and let me bandage up your shoulder properly. I hadn't half time to do it, before."
"But you won't want me to lie in bed, or any nonsense of that sort?" Reuben asked.
"I would, if I thought you would obey my orders; but as I see no chance of that, I shall not trouble to give them. Seriously, I do not think there is any necessity for it, providing always that you will keep yourself very quiet. I shall bandage your arm across your chest, so there can be no movement of the shoulder; and when that is done, I think you will be all right."
There was only one more question which Reuben had to ask, with regard to the event of the preceding day—why it was that Smithson did not go to his comrade's assistance. He then learned that Thorne rode quietly up to the back of the house and dismounted, then went to the stable, where Smithson was asleep—having been on guard during the night—and pushed a piece of wood under the latch of the door, so that it could not be raised. Having thus securely fastened Smithson in, he had gone to the front of the house, and had apparently shot down the constable there before the latter was aware of his presence.
Smithson, awakened by the shot, tried in vain to get out; and was only released by Mrs. Barker, when she recovered from the effect of the stunning blow which the bush ranger had struck her. He had then mounted at once, and followed in pursuit.
In the afternoon the party returned from the bush, having experienced no further molestation from the natives. Nothing occurred to interfere with the progress of Reuben's wound and, in the course of a fortnight, he was again able to resume his duties.
The complete destruction of the gang of bush rangers, and the energy with which they had been pursued into the very heart of the bush country, made a vast sensation in the colony; and Reuben gained great credit, and instant promotion for his conduct.
A month after the return of the party from the bush, Mr. Donald was about again and, as the danger was now past, he abandoned his idea of selling his property. The course which events took can be judged by the following conversation, between Mrs. Donald and her sister, three months later.
"Well, Kate, after all he has done for us, of course I have nothing to say against it; and I don't suppose you would mind, if I had. Still, I do think you might have done better."
"I could not have done better," Kate said hotly, "not if I had had the pick of the whole colony."
"Well, not in one way, my dear; for you know that, personally, I like him almost as well as you do. Still, I do think it is a little unfortunate that we ever knew him before."
"And I think it's extremely fortunate," Kate said stoutly. "If it hadn't been that he had known us before, and cared for me—he says worshipped, but that's nonsense—ever since I was a child, he would never have made that terrible ride, and I—"
"Oh, don't talk about it, Kate; it's too dreadful even to think of now.
"Well, my dear, no doubt it's all for the best," Alice said philosophically. "At any rate, you are quite happy, and he is a noble fellow. But I hope, for your sake, that he won't stay in the police. It would be dreadful for you when he was riding about, hunting after bush rangers and blacks; for you know, my dear, there are plenty of others left in the colony."
"I told him so yesterday," Kate said shyly. "I said, of course, that I didn't want to influence him."
Alice broke into a laugh.
"You little goose, as if what you say doesn't influence him."
Three weeks later, Reuben received a letter from Mr. Hudson.
"My dear Whitney, I am glad to hear, from you, that you are engaged to be married; and the circumstances which you tell me of make it a most interesting affair. If I were you, I should cut the constabulary. I enclose a paper from Wilson, giving you three weeks' leave. Come down to Sydney at once, and talk it over with me. You know I regard you as my son, and I am going to have a voice in the matter."
Reuben went down to Sydney and, after ascertaining his views, Mr. Hudson went into town and forthwith arranged for the purchase, for him, of a partnership in the chief engineering firm in the town. When he told Captain Wilson what he had done, the latter declared that he had robbed the colony of its best police officer. Reuben protested against the generosity of the old settler, but the latter declared he would have no nonsense on the subject.
"I am one of the richest men in the colony," he said, "and it's hard if I can't spend my money as I choose."
There is little more to tell. Reuben became one of the leading citizens of Sydney and, twenty years afterwards, sold his business and returned to England, and bought an estate not far from Lewes, where he is still living with his wife and family. He was accompanied from Australia by his mother; who, in spite of her strong objections to the sea, went out to live with him, two years after his marriage.
The only point upon which Reuben Whitney and his wife have never been able to come to an absolute agreement is as to which owes most to the other.