"Toowoomba. Wyck called here day before flood. Left for Sydney.—Hal."
"Toowoomba. Wyck called here day before flood. Left for Sydney.—Hal."
The other read:
"Albany, W.A. Self and wife arrive Adelaide Monday. Wire address.—Whyte."
"Albany, W.A. Self and wife arrive Adelaide Monday. Wire address.—Whyte."
The letter contained a cheque for £150, withthe photo of Mr. and Mrs. Montague enclosed, on the back of which was written:—"May God bless and prosper Reginald Morris is the earnest prayer of the originals!"
Reg passed a restless night, turned himself out of bed early, and went for a stroll in the Domain before breakfast. He was ill at ease and full of self-reproach, for it seemed to him he had neglected his oath. He had given himself up to the pleasure of the hour, while Wyck was still at large. He blamed himself for believing rumours and not satisfying himself of their truth, and altogether worked himself into a miserable frame of mind.
After a hasty breakfast, he hurried round to the "Grosvenor," and asked for Goody, and shewed him the telegram.
"That's funny, very funny," said Goody.
"Is that friend of yours here still?" asked Reg.
"No, he has gone to stay at GovernmentHouse for a few days. He shewed me a most pressing invitation."
"When was this, Mr. Goodchild?"
"Last night. He told me he knew a lot of the Governor's friends, and that the Governor had asked him almost as a favour to go, as he complained of being bored."
"Did he tell you this?"
"Yes, he seemed to sympathise with his friend."
"Poor devils, how badly we treat them," said Reg, with mock commiseration.
"Now I don't agree with you there, Mr. Morris. I think we treat the Governors right royally;" said Goody, mistaking his tone.
"You try to do so in your straightforward, honest way, and such are the thanks you get for it. But good-bye for the present, I have some work to do."
Reg hurried away to Blue Gums where he produced the telegram, which the girls read with surprise. All agreed that nothing could be done until Hal returned.
"You'll keep your appointment with Mrs. Montague," said Reg, rising to go: "but you must excuse me. I want to look round."
"After Philamore?" asked Hil.
"He's staying at Government House."
"What!"
"So your father told me this morning."
"Then he can't be Wyck," said Hil, emphatically.
Meeting Hal on the arrival of his train, they drove together to their hotel, to take up the thread of their abandoned plans. Hal told his story:
"On my arrival, I went to the 'Royal' and saw Bill, who, of course, said he knew nothing; but when I threatened to arrest him on a warrant he changed his tone. He told me Wyck had called for his things on the day before the flood, and then started for Sydney. Bill said he had complained about the loss of a black stick, of which he knew nothing. I wired to you, and caught the next train back."
"I expect Mr. and Mrs. Whyte. They arrived at Adelaide on Monday," said Reg, handing him their telegram.
"What's become of Philamore?"
"Staying at Government House."
"We musn't lose sight of that chap."
"Oh, you remember old Joe Brown, who swore to Wyck's identity?"
"Yes; what about him?"
"I saw him here yesterday," said Reg. "I followed him, and he got into a cab, with whom do you think?"
"Not Philamore?"
"Yes."
"Then that settles it. Well, now we will get the girls to call a meeting at Blue Gums to-morrow. They must invite Mr. and Mrs. Montague, Goody and ourselves; then we can compare notes, for we all must go to the garden-party at Government House to-morrow afternoon."
Goody's tale to Reg was quite true. Fred Philamore had made the acquaintance of the Governor, and had mentioned so many London friends that were known to both, that His Excellency, finding him so interesting, had invited him to Government House. This invitation he was glad to accept, as he was still uneasy about his pursuers. The boys, however, little guessed that all this while they were themselves being watched: yet this was so, as the pseudo Fred Philamore had two retainers on their track, who reported all their movements. Consequently he knew all about Hal's journey toToowoomba, and guessed its object. He was engaged in forming a plan by means of which he could be revenged on Morris, but as he did not consider the time was ripe to put it into practice, he accepted the chance offered him by the Governor to enjoy himself at the expense of the Colonial Government.
The next morning the party of seven interested in the doings of Villiers Wyckliffe met at Blue Gums to discuss matters.
"Of course," said Hal, "we are only surmising that Philamore is our man. We have no direct proof of his identity yet."
"When I last saw him he had dark hair and moustache," said May.
"Well a moustache is easily shaved off, and hair can be as easily dyed," said Reg.
"I suppose nobody noticed his hands, for he has a white scar on the fore-finger of his right hand, plainly visible," said Mrs. Montague.
"Why, I noticed that only yesterday on Philamore's hand," said Goody.
"Then it is he," said Reg, excited. "Now how are we to get at him?"
"Leave that to me, old chap," answered Hal."You've got your die ready; you shall be executioner, I will bring him to the block."
"You are not really going to brand him?" put in Mrs. Montague.
"I am, indeed."
"Well, I can't say he does not deserve it," she added, stopped from further remark by Reg's determined face.
"Well, it is understood that we all meet this afternoon at Government House," said Hal. "We will now adjourn the meeting."
Hil and May had already refused the invitations to the party, but a private note despatched to the Secretary had the desired effect, as that gentleman held a very high opinion of Hil and her fortune.
Government House is a palatial residence, and situated in the midst of lovely gardens. It was the height of the season, and a large number of people were assembled in the grounds, including a good proportion of mammas, each with a bevy of daughters. At the appointed time Hil's carriage drove into the grounds, followed by a cab, and the occupants of both were set down to be presented to His Excellency, who stood with aforced, dignified smile on his face, and bowed to each visitor with the accurate regularity of a machine. Close observers only would notice that the smile was supercilious and the bow perfunctory. Both the girls and boys, as a matter of form, passed before him and then wandered together round the grounds. They did not wander far before they came across the bishop's son, who was paying elaborate attention to the daughter of a squatter who could count his sheep by millions. With ill-concealed satisfaction, her fond mother watched her daughter's flirtation with one of England's nobility, as she supposed him to be. Further on, they met their man, evidently in the full swing of enjoyment. He was talking to a young English lady with whom he was seated under a spreading eucalyptus, and satirising colonial manners. The lady herself was on the look-out for a colonial millionaire and often sighed to herself over the disagreeable necessity that the millions could not be obtained without the millionaire.
Seats had been placed on both sides of the tree, and Philamore and his companion were quite unaware that the seat at their back wasoccupied, until the former was startled by hearing a familiar voice say:
"It's Wyck for a certainty. We shall have to waylay him."
"It's a matter of time, Mr. Morris. Do not distress yourself so much. We'll catch him before long."
Peering round, he saw May and Reg were the speakers, and a longing to get out of the way seized him. He took the earliest opportunity of excusing himself and calling a cab drove rapidly into the town, to the same restaurant into which Reg had seen Joe disappear. He sent a boy in to ask for Mr. Brown.
"Come and get up," he called out as Brown appeared. "You must get ready at once, Brown, and do it to-night, for I am off by the express. They have found me out. But, mind, no murder."
"Oh, no, just bruise and lame 'em a bit, eh!"
"Exactly, and don't let them catch sight of your face if you can help it."
"I understand, boss."
"Now you can get out. Here's a tenner to go on with and I'll send you another when I hear the job is done."
"All right, boss," said Brown, as he got down.
"Address George Thompson, P.O., Melbourne," shouted Philamore to him.
"Ay, ay. Good-night."
Philamore drove to the Imperial Hotel, and wrote a note to His Excellency, saying he had been called away to Brisbane on important business and promising to call on his return. The remainder of the time left to him he devoted to preparations, and when the Melbourne train left Sydney it carried an elderly man with grey hair.
Both the boys and the girls left the garden-party early, and on the return of the former to their hotel, they found that a young woman had been enquiring for Mr. Morris and had promised to call again. While they were speculating as to whom this new visitor could be the lady herself appeared. She had a sad tale to tell. She had been employed as barmaid at a hotel, and had met Wyck and fallen in love with him, and after arranging to be married, he had thrown her over.
"But why do you come to us?" asked Reg.
"I heard you were after him for a similar thing," she said, bursting into tears.
"And where did you hear that?" said Hal.
"Well, my friend the housemaid at the 'Metropole' heard you talking about Wyck, and she told me."
"What do you want us to do."
"I don't know, sir, but I thought you would like to know that he has made an appointment with another girl in the 'Domain' at eight to-night."
"Where's he to meet her?"
"I'll show you, sir."
"Look here, my girl," said the astute Hal, "you are not telling me the truth."
"What do you mean, sir?" she asked, indignantly.
"Do you mind pulling the bell, Reg?"
"What for, Hal?"
"To send the waiter for a policeman. He will investigate this lady's statement."
"Oh, don't do that, sir."
"Will you tell us who sent you here then?" said Hal.
"You'll not touch me if I do."
"Not if you tell the truth."
"Well, there were going to be several men behind the bushes, where I was to take you, and they were going to thrash you."
"Who sent you here?"
"Mr. Brown gave me ten shillings to come."
"If you take my advice, you won't have anything more to do with Mr. Brown. Now you can go," and Hal dismissed her.
"A very clumsy plot indeed, Mr. Wyckliffe, very clumsy! You must be losing your wit," said Hal, smiling.
The next morning, Reg amused himself by reading the sarcastic account in theBulletin, of the doings at Government House, which were served up in the spicy style of that journal, and to his astonishment the account wound up with the astounding statement that Mr. Philamore had left for Brisbane.
As Hal read the paragraph aloud, he looked at Reg whose face seemed to contract with rage, he caught Hal's glance, and then both turned away in silence to engage in their own thoughts.
When Wyck, or Fred Philamore, left Sydney, he did so without leaving a trace behind him, for Joe Brown had returned to Queensland, after sending a detailed account of how the boys had been caught, and had received a tremendous thrashing. Wyck was overjoyed, and had sent him his other tenner. Now his intention was to get to England without delay, but as no boat was starting for a week, and feeling secure in his disguise, he gave himself up to enjoyment in Melbourne, and, becoming bolder every day, allowed the boat to start without him. The boys had visited Adelaide and Melbourne, and scoured the county, but could find no trace of the fugitive, and as Mr. and Mrs. Whyte had now arrived, they had gone to Tasmania withthem and the girls for a short stay at Goodchilds'. They had only been there two days when Hal received the following telegram:
"Melbourne, Come over. Quick.—Terence O'Flynn."
"Melbourne, Come over. Quick.—Terence O'Flynn."
They at once started for Melbourne, where Terence met them and gave them an account of his proceedings.
"You see, gents, ever since I last saw you I have been keeping a sharp look-out on both Dick and the 'Gaiety,' but I never see any one at all like our man. On Tuesday I was on my cab as usual and Dick was in the same rank, when I see an elderly gent, clean-shaved, and with rather grey hair, wearing a bell-topper—a regular howling toff he looked—stroll along the rank, 'Cab, sir,' says I, but he shook his head and walked on. Seemed as if he was in thought, for when he came to the end of the street he came back again, and beckoning to Dick, got in his cab, and drove off. I didn't take much notice of that, but I did notice that Dick didn't come back until nearly twelve, and when he did he seemed pleased with hisself. Next day morning I was passing the 'Gaiety,' when I'm blowed if I didn't see Dick's cab a-waiting outside, so I drives down a lane a bit and watches, andsure that elderly gent comes out again with one of the young ladies, and drives away. When Dick comes back to the stand that night, I says to him—'Got another soft line, Dick'—'Yes,' he says, 'but he's going away soon!' Well, I tried all I knew, but Dick he was fly, and as this chap seemed to carry on just like Wyck, I thought it would do no harm to send for you."
"He's got grey hair you say, Terence?" asked Hal.
"Yes, but he don't look old, and I know he's a toff, too."
"It's worth risking, Reg. Let's make all preparations in case it is, for we do not intend to let him slip again."
"What shall we do first?"
"We want a furnished house, Terence."
"Sure you can get hundreds of 'em, sir."
"Do you know of one close handy?"
"I saw one in Nicholson Street only yesterday, for I drove a gent to look at it, but he said the rent was too much."
"How much was it, Terence?"
"Two pounds ten a week."
"Let's go and have a look at it."
Calling a cab they drove up Collins Street toNicholson Street, and half-an-hour later they had the receipt for two weeks' rent of an eight-roomed house.
"The next thing for you to do, Terence, is to swell up a bit," said Hal.
"What do you mean—put my Sunday togs on?"
"Yes, that's the idea. How long will it take you?"
"About an hour, sir."
"Then go and do it, and meet me at 'Menzie's,' in an hour's time. Here's a sovereign to go on with."
The boys then drove to "Menzie's," engaged a room and locked themselves in.
"The only way we can satisfy ourselves as to his identity is by means of that stick."
"The stick! How are you going to do it? I cannot part with it on any account," said Reg, grasping it firmly, as if in fear that it would vanish altogether; he had had it made sothat itcould be put together in one, or taken apart.
"My idea is to send Terence to the 'Gaiety' at a time when this man is there, and carry the stick openly in his hand."
"What then?"
"Why, if he really is Wyck, he is almost certain to shew some interest in the stick."
"Yes?"
"Well, that will put Terence on his guard, and he can tell him some yarn about it, and make an appointment with him at our house."
"What then?"
"Then you can make use of your die, my boy."
"It's a glorious idea, but I don't like parting with the stick. Having it by me is a great source of satisfaction to me."
"We can trust Terence. He's no fool, and knows well enough what success will mean to him."
"How about the doctor?"
"I wired young Aveling to come over with Goody and the girls. The boat's due at mid-day to-morrow. Come on down now, Terence ought to be here."
"Then I am to bring the stick with me?"
"Yes, certainly, old chap. It's our only chance."
They found Terence below, rigged out in his Sunday best, and looking very smart. The stick was handed to him, with full instructions how toact, and what to say, should the gentleman recognise the stick.
"You can depend on me, gentlemen," said Terence.
"Be off now, Terence, and don't drink anything strong. Stick to light stuff, and report to us directly you have seen him."
"Right you are, your honour, and be jabers, if he's the man, we'll see him at 345, Nicholson Street," said Terence as he left.
About nine o'clock Terence called at their hotel, in a very excited state, and quite out of breath.
"It's Wyck, it's Wyck," he said, sinking down on a chair and wiping his forehead. They gave him time to recover his breath, and then he told them his story.
"When I left your honour," he said, "I went to the 'Gaiety,' but he was not there, so I waited on the other side of the road, as I didn't want Dick to see me togged up. Just about seven, I see Dick's cab drive up, and out jumps the old gentleman. When Dick had driven off again, I followed him into the saloon. There he was, larking with Miss Harris, but I took no notice of him at all. 'A glass of lager,' says I, throwing down a sovereign carelessly, like as if I was a toff, and as I counted the change I put the stick on the counter. The old gent he gives a start directly he sees it, and he looks quite hard at me, but I took no notice and called for a smoke. Well, I lights up, says good-night, and was just off, when he calls out—'Have another drink with me?'
"'I don't mind,' says I.
"'That's a curious sort of stick,' says he, pointing to it.
"'Yes,' says I.
"'Had it long,' says he.
"'Some months now,' says I.
"'What's them notches on it for?' says he.
"'I don't know. It don't belong to me.'
"'Whose is it then?' asks he, getting interested.
"'Oh,' says I, 'there's quite a history belonging to that stick.'
"'What sort of a history?'
"'Well,' says I, 'it's like this. My sister, she was staying at Toowoomba upQueenslandway; she's the sister of the landlady at the 'Royal.' Well, one day a new chum named Wyckliffe came there to stop. She told mehe seemed a decent sort, but he left early for out West the next morning, and he never came back, poor fellow! for he was drowned—so the papers say. Any rate, he left some old clothes at the 'Royal,' and this stick was found amongst them, and she keeps it, for she said he was such a nice fellow.'
"'But it's yours now,' says he.
"'No such luck,' says I. 'She don't know I have it out, else there'd be a row.'
"'I'll tell you what I'll do,' he says, 'I knew the chap as owned this stick, and I'll give you ten bob for it.'
"'You won't,' says I, 'nor ten pound neither.'
"'Why?' says he, surprised.
"'I'm living in her house,' says I, 'and if she knew I was taking liberties with her goods I'd get the run.'
"'Would she sell it?' he asks.
"'There'd be no harm in asking her,' I says, 'if it's worth anything to you.'
"'It is for old acquaintance sake. Where does she live?'
"'At 345 Nicholson Street,' says I.
"'What time is best to see her?' says he.
"'About four in the afternoon.'
"'Tell your sister I'll call at four to-morrow,' says he.
"We had another drink and he wished me good afternoon, and I ran all the way down here," said Terence, evidently immensely pleased with himself.
"You have done well, Terence," said Hal, and Reg shook him warmly by the hand.
"Look here, Terence, we shall want a lady to take the part of your sister to-morrow and receive him. Do you know of a respectable girl who would do it?"
"Well, that all depends. What would she have to do?"
"Nothing more than to receive him."
"Well, I think I know of a lady that will suit. Sheismy sister. She is a nurse, but is not doing anything now."
"A nurse. That's the very person we want," said Hal, quite pleased at the way things were going.
"She'll come, I suppose, Terence?" asked Reg.
"Yes, sir. She'll do anything I tell her," answered Terence, proudly.
"Then you can tell your sister to call at the house at ten to-morrow, and we'll meet you there to arrange matters," said Hal.
"Right you are, your honours. I reckon he won't get away this time," said Terence, leaving them together.
The following morning the boys took possession of their house and planned out details. Terence duly brought his sister, who, they were surprised to find, was an extremely good-looking Irish girl, quite ready to do all she was told, without asking any questions.
Hal drilled her instructions into her thoroughly, and then they both set out for the wharf, and met thePateena, which arrived with all their friends on board, including Dr. Aveling, a friend of Goodchild's.
Hil was briefly informed of all that had been done, and the boys hurried back to Nicholson Street, taking the doctor with them.
"Now, doctor," said Reg, "just look at this die and see if it is fit for the job."
"Yes, it will do very well," he replied, examining the edges.
"We want you to have all your tools ready, for though Reg will do the deed, you will seethat the wounds are properly dressed, won't you?"
"Certainly, I have brought all that is necessary, and, provided you are sure of your man, I am ready to help you."
"Rest assured we won't brand the wrong man," said Hal, who was as cool as a cucumber.
"There's a cab pulling up at the door," said Reg, excitedly. He had scarcely spoken when there was a loud knock at the door.
Miss O'Flynn opened the door, and the visitor entered.
The room into which the gentleman was shewn was in the centre of the house, and was furnished as a sitting-room. Miss O'Flynn followed him in and closed the door, which was immediately locked on the outside. A second door which led into another apartment, was screened by a heavy curtain. The door it hid was kept ajar, so that the people interested, who were waiting in the room, could hear all that passed. The first thing that caught the visitor's eye was the notched stick lying on the table, which he eagerly picked up.
"Ah, here we are, miss. Yes, this is the very stick," he said, as he examined it carefully.
"The poor fellow who owned it was drowned, I believe," said Miss O'Flynn.
"I want this stick as a memento of him," answered the gentleman, sweetly.
"But I can't part with it on any account."
"I'll give you five pounds for it, though it is not worth a penny."
"No, sir, I cannot sell it. My brother knew that."
"Where is your brother?"
"He's in the town."
"And are you all alone in this large house?" asked he, with an insinuating smile.
"Yes, why?"
"Oh, nothing. But really, miss, you must let me have this stick. You must. You must, I say you must," and he came close to her and stared her straight in the face.
"Ah, you will then. I can have it," said he, picking up his hat and the stick. "Now, good-bye."
"Miss O'Flynn, will you leave the room?" said a voice behind him that made him start round as he was making his way to the door.
He paused thunderstruck, as his eyes rested on Reg's pale face with its look of fierce determination.
"Villiers Wyckliffe we meet at last."
The silence in the room was profound, broken only by the fall of Wyck's hat on the floor, as his trembling fingers lost their power of grasp.
"Morris!" he gasped.
"Yes, I am Reg Morris."
At this announcement Wyck's first idea was flight, and he made for the door.
"Don't trouble yourself, the door is locked. There is no escape for you now," said Reg, sternly.
Wyck watched his adversary for a moment. Then he came forward, smiling, and said, "My dear Morris, I was most sorry to hear of your trouble. Believe me, I beg your pardon, sincerely, for any wrong I did you."
"Stand aside, you scoundrel. You killed the girl I had loved for years. You made it your sport to break our hearts. Your chosen device is a broken heart. See I have provided you with an excellent reproduction of it, and, in order that you may carry it with you wherever you go, that it may always be in evidence, I am going to brand your charming device on both your ears."
The relentless, menacing tone chilled him and sapped his self-control. At heart Wyck was acoward, but he was a calculating villain as well. His lips quivered and his face paled. His voice shook as he whined:
"Mercy, Morris. Mercy! I'll forfeit anything, I'll do anything you like, to make amends. I never meant—"
"But I do mean it, you grovelling coward. And if you take my advice you'll submit, for it has to be done."
Again the cold, cruel tone made him shiver, but the bully in Wyck's nature reasserted itself as he shouted:
"You won't. You won't, for I'll shoot you, you hound," and he levelled a revolver he had taken from his pocket at Reg's head.
Reg laughed a hard, unnatural laugh, as he sprang forward and, knocking his arm up, planted a blow well between his eyes. The bullet lodged harmlessly in the ceiling and Wyck lay in a heap on the floor.
"Come, doctor," cried Reg, as between them they hauled the struggling man to a sofa. Reg smothered his cries, and a few minutes later he was under chloroform. Reg's stern determination acted like a spell on his assistants and swiftly all the accessories for the operation werebrought. A small block was placed under each ear; Reg firmly held the die upon the piece of flesh, and with a single blow from a mallet calmly branded the device on each ear. Then he handed his victim over to the doctor to dress the wounds and, giving a deep sigh, sank into a chair, and buried his face in his hands. A wave of relief that his task was accomplished, that his oath was fulfilled, passed over him. Pity for his victim he had none, only satisfaction that an act of stern, pitiless justice had been done. When the doctor had finished his bandaging Reg straightened himself.
"We'd better keep him a week here to give the wounds a chance to heal," said Hal.
"Yes, it would be as well to do so," said the doctor. "When the bleeding stops I will dress them so that they heal quickly."
"I wonder what he'll do now," said Reg.
"Probably give us in charge," laughed Hal.
"Let him do so, I'm agreeable. At any rate we will stop in Melbourne to give him a chance."
Terence and his sister were left in charge with full instructions, and the boys left for theirhotel, where they found all their friends awaiting them.
"Father, I've kept my word," said Reg, taking Whyte's hand.
"Amen," said the old man.
"Kiss me," said Mrs. Whyte, coming to him with tears in her eyes.
"And shake hands with us," said Hil and May.
Goody also came forward and gave him a hearty hand-clasp.
"I thank you all," said Reg, much affected. "But here is the man to whom the success is due. He offered his services to me, a complete stranger, and all these months he has been my constant companion. Hal, old boy, give me your hand."
"I only helped a friend in need," answered Hal.
"As any Australian would do," said the doctor.
The girls and Goody took to the Whytes at once. Goody and old Whyte had many opinions and pursuits in common, while the girls openly called Mrs. Whyte, mother. Amy's death had left its mark on both the old people, and the Mia-Mia had become intolerable to them, so thatwhen an opportunity occurred of selling it they accepted it eagerly. Whyte had had enough of England. It held only one small spot sacred and dear to him, which was Amy's grave.
That evening Reg was seized with a fit of melancholy. Now that his revenge was accomplished the inevitable reaction had come. In spite of his conviction that he had done his duty, still his conscience pricked him for wilfully maiming a fellow-creature. He had separated himself from the others and was brooding sadly in the twilight when he was roused by the touch of a small hand being laid on his.
"Don't fret, Mr. Morris," said May, in her gentle, sympathetic way. "Think how you have saved others now from the fate you saved me from."
"You make too much of it, Miss Goodchild."
"No, I can never do that," she answered, simply.
"Ah, here you are. We've been looking for you everywhere," called out Mrs. Whyte, coming upon them.
"I've been trying to console Mr. Morris, mother," said May.
"And she has succeeded, for now I am quite over it," said Reg, lightly.
"Mr. Winter suggested going to the theatre to see that friend of yours."
"That's a splendid idea. We'll go."
They were fortunate enough to get a box, and gave themselves up to an evening's enjoyment. Between the acts Hal and Reg sent their names round to Mrs. Montague, and were immediately received.
"Shake hands, Mrs. Montague," said Reg.
"He's branded," said Hal.
"Who, Wyck?" asked the lady, surprised, and both nodded an assent.
"Well, he has deserved his fate," she said, with a little sigh. "And now you will let him go." The completion of the revenge awed her.
"Will you and Mr. Montague join us at our hotel this evening?" asked Hal.
"Where are you staying?"
"At 'Menzie's.'"
"Why, I am there, too. Certainly we will, with pleasure. But there is my call. Good-bye till then."
Later on, the doctor returned and gave a favourable report of his patient. He saidTerence had had a good deal of trouble to keep him quiet. But though he was sullen and restless no serious consequences had arisen, and he could be removed in two days' time.
They had a gay supper-party that night, and two days later a cab was sent to 345, Nicholson Street, and Wyck, with his head bandaged, was released to go whithersoever he would.
"Where to?" asked the cabby.
"To Dr. Moloney's," said he, having heard of that gentleman's name.
"I want you to examine my ears," he said, when he found himself in the doctor's consulting room.
"What's the matter?" replied the doctor, removing the bandages. "Phew "—he whistled, when he saw the damage.
"What is it, doctor?"
"You're branded for life. Who did it?" and the doctor passed him a hand-mirror to see for himself.
The sight that met Wyck's eyes nearly made him faint with rage and terror.
"Who did it?" asked the doctor, again.
Then Wyck told him the story, at least his own version of it, and in such a manner that the doctor's indignation was at once aroused.
"Come down to the Police Station and I will go with you. It's horrible that such a thing should be allowed. You must punish these ruffians."
The doctor drove him to the nearest Police Station and shewed the branding to the Inspector, who was thunderstruck at the sight and would scarcely believe the details told him by Wyck.
"Will you issue warrants?" asked the doctor.
"No, we can't do that. You must charge them with inflicting grievous bodily harm and we must issue an information."
"Where are these men now?"
"I have no idea. They kept me prisoner for three days and I daresay are far away by this time," answered Wyck.
The Inspector took down full particulars, to be forwarded to the detective department with instructions to wire details all over the Colonies without delay.
The Melbourne Press is as enterprising as that of other cities, and scarcely an hour had gone by since Wyck laid the information, when the news-boys were shouting, "Terrible assault on a gentleman. Ear-marked on both ears." Theboys bought both theHeraldand theStandard, and read the following paragraph:
ASSAULT ON A GENTLEMAN.
At a quarter to five this evening a gentleman named Villiers Wyckliffe, accompanied by Dr. Moloney, called at the police-station and reported himself as being the victim of a terrible assault by which he will be marked for life. It appears from particulars to hand, which are very meagre, that two men named Morris and Winter have followed him for some months in order to be revenged for some fancied wrong. They decoyed him into a house and committed the assault complained of. We learn that information has been sworn, and the matter is in the hands of the detectives.
At a quarter to five this evening a gentleman named Villiers Wyckliffe, accompanied by Dr. Moloney, called at the police-station and reported himself as being the victim of a terrible assault by which he will be marked for life. It appears from particulars to hand, which are very meagre, that two men named Morris and Winter have followed him for some months in order to be revenged for some fancied wrong. They decoyed him into a house and committed the assault complained of. We learn that information has been sworn, and the matter is in the hands of the detectives.
"Shall we call for the warrants, Hal?" asked Reg, playfully.
"No; let's give the detectives a chance."
At dinner they discussed their probable arrest, but no detectives appeared, so quite unconcerned they went off to a theatre with their friends.
The following morning both theAgeand theArgushad each long columns referring to the assault. Both had interviewed Wyck, and that gentleman had glorified himself and posed as the martyr of a horrible conspiracy. The affair became the sensation of the day. Telegrams were sent the length and breadth of the Colonies; ships' passenger-lists were examined, and no trace of the fugitives from justice—so the paperscalled them—could be discovered. On the next afternoon, the boys called on the Inspector, sent up their cards and coolly asked for the warrants. The Inspector's face was a study when he was told where they had been staying. They were then formally served with the informations.
Each newspaper vied with the other in giving their readers as many particulars, real or imagined, as possible and the boys were besieged with reporters. The public were informed that the charge was not denied, and that the accused considered their action fully justified. Details were given of the curious type of ear-mark, which was stated to be Mr. Wyckliffe's device. The Sydney correspondent telegraphed the surprise felt in the highest circles, and the indignation expressed at the dastardly act, as Mr. Wyckliffe was well-known there. The Brisbane correspondent sent all that could be gleaned from their Dalby and Toowoomba agents, and the romance and the excitement grew in equal proportions. Later editions reported that the eminent Q.C., Mr. Qurves, had been retained for the prosecution, and that Dr. Haddon had undertaken the defence.
Next day the case was called in a crowded court, but the defendants asked for, and obtained, a remand of a week to allow witnesses to be brought.
At length, the day of the celebrated trial of Wyckliffev.Morris and Winter dawned. Never since the days of the trial of Ned Kelly had popular excitement been so keen. The newspapers were full of the case. It was the absorbing topic throughout the colonies, and the conjectures as to the result were numerous.
The Melbourne Law Courts are housed in a huge building, which cost hundreds of thousands of pounds, and is acknowledged to be the largest in the Colonies. But it was not in this palatial building that the great case was tried, but as is usually the way in a dilapidated, stuffy, little police-court, with dingy walls, bad ventilation, and greasy seats.
Long before the commencement of the trial, large crowds had gathered round the doors, notone tenth of whom could have found seats in the miserable building, that would scarcely hold two hundred people. The boys had secured passes for their friends to the gallery.
The bench was overcrowded with gentlemen who could tag J.P. on to their names. This is usual when an exciting case, particularly a breach of promise case, is on. At ordinary times great difficulty is experienced in getting anyone to attend.
When the Court was duly opened the Inspector read out the charge against Reginald Morris and Allen Winter, for inflicting grievous bodily harm and endangering the life of Villiers Wyckliffe.
"How do you plead—Guilty or Not Guilty?" asked the Clerk of the Court.
"Not Guilty," said Reg.
"Not Guilty," said Hal.
"I appear to prosecute, your worship," said Mr. Qurves, rising.
"And I for the defendants," said Dr. Haddon.
Wyck sat by his counsel's side. His head was wrapped in bandages and the expression of his face was forlorn and miserable. The boys werepermitted to sit at their counsel's side and both appeared quite contented and serene.
The celebrated counsel, Mr. Qurves, noisily arranged his papers, rose and opened the case in the blustering manner for which he was famous.
"The case I have to present to your worship I think I may characterise as unprecedented in the annals of Australian history. It is monstrous that such a savage act of reprisal should have been conceived in the midst of the enlightened civilisation of our day. It is typical of a period of savagery and barbarism, and I venture to assert that even were we living under such barbaric conditions, when human life was held cheaply, an act so atrocious as this would not be allowed to go unpunished. That the prisoners—"
"I object to my clients being called prisoners," interposed Dr. Haddon.
"I bow to my learned friend. I will say defendants—for that they will be prisoners soon will be clearly demonstrated, so the objection hardly matters. That the defendants are hardened to crime and wickedness their callous manner makes apparent to all of us. To view with in-difference the grave charge of disfiguring a man in such a manner that his life is ruined stamps them at once as murderers in intent, if not in deed. I shall have little difficulty in shewing your worship that the crime was premeditated, and that the defendants were literally thirsting to avenge themselves in this bloodthirsty manner. I shall shew the Court that the defendant Morris set himself to avenge a wrong—or rather what his warped imagination considered a wrong—and, coward that he was, thinking that man to man would be an unequal match he sought an accomplice in the man by his side. Both of them hounded my client down, tracked him over the whole country—and what for, think you? For his blood—and yet both have the presumption to sit there with smiling faces and to ask you to believe they have done an heroic deed."
Mr. Qurves was practised in the art of rousing his audience to indignation, and he paused to let the full effect of his outburst sink into the hearts of his hearers.
"These are the outlines, your worship. I will now go into details. Villiers Wyckliffe, my client, is the only son of the late Seymour Wyckcliffe, the eminent banker, whose name is known throughout the civilised world. On the death of his father, Mr. Wyckliffe, being disinclined for a business life, converted the bank into a company and retired. Now, given a young man of prepossessing appearance, of good birth and standing, with ample means, does it not stand to reason that, in a city like London, a young man of this description would have more temptations thrown in his way than a more ordinary individual? Furthermore, he was always a great favourite with the gentler sex, and perhaps that fact alone was sufficient to rouse the ire of jealous individuals, a fair specimen of whom we have before us in the defendant Morris. Now, my client was introduced to a young lady at a ball, at the lady's own request, and they sat out one dance together. The lady proving to be very interested in him, and shewing a tendency to monopolise his attention, time passed, so that instead of one dance being missed, two were. The lady in question had merely remarked that as she was engaged to her betrothed for the next dance, it did not matter missing it. Also, in the course of the conversation, she mentioned, in a manner that could not be misconstrued, that she would bewalking on the following day in the Park. Naturally, my client announced his intention of being there too. They met, and for several days continued to meet, just previous to the day the plaintiff had decided to start on his trip to Australia. On his arrival here telegrams informed him that he was being pursued. My client was surprised, but subsequently obtained the information that the girl had fallen in love with him and broken off with her betrothed, the defendant Morris. Now, I ask the Court if it is surprising that a girl should do that? One has only to compare the two men—even though you now see my client at a disadvantage—to perceive how natural, how much a matter of common sense and how inevitable it was that she should do so. Now, this commonplace matter was the cause of the assault."
We need not follow the learned counsel as he detailed the history of the meeting with Winter, the pursuit from one colony to another, the theft of the notched stick, and the ultimate capture of Wyck. With brutal directness and sarcasm he laid bare a diabolical plot until the audience was roused almost to a pitch of frenzy: but whenhe closed as follows the frenzy became almost uncontrollable.
"When these ruffians seized and drugged my client and gave play to their barbarous instincts by maiming him for life, one is tempted to ask why they did not further indulge their brutal propensities by roasting the flesh they cut away. I am sorry to say that both these men are Australians, and I ask again, can such things be tolerated in the country of sunshine and gladness, of freedom and justice? In another country we know Judge Lynch would preside at their trial. And we here shall shew these two that such an atrocity will not be permitted here solely because a girl has shewn one man that she can like him better than another, with whom she has become entangled. I will now call Mr. Wyckliffe."
As Mr. Qurves sat down he was gratified to find his blustering eloquence had had the result desired. Applause broke out in all corners of the Court; in vain the criers shouted for order, but their voices were drowned. "Let's lynch 'em," shouted some ardent spirits at the back. The row only subsided when the magistrate gave orders for the Court to be cleared.The boys looked quietly at each other, and held a whispered consultation with their counsel, but they remained as calm and collected as before, and the girls followed their example of quiet confidence.
Wyck entered the box with an air of bravado, and gave full particulars in support of his counsel's opening, in answer to the questions put to him. When Mr. Qurves had finished, Dr. Haddon rose in a quiet way, glanced slowly round the Court, and, turning to Wyck, asked:
"You know, of course, you are on your oath?"
"Certainly."
"You were a member of the Detlij Club before you left London?"
Wyck started in surprise, but answered, "I was."
"One of the objects of the Club was to enable jilted men to avenge themselves, I believe?"
"I believe so."
"They give a gold badge every year to the member who can boast of having destroyed the happiness of the most ladies?"
"Yes."
"You were awarded that badge last year?"
"I was."
"This is your stick, I believe?"
"It was, before it was stolen."
"Did you cut those notches in it?"
"No."
"Who did?"
"I don't know."
"Will you swear that you did not produce this stick at the Detlij Club and assert that each notch represented a broken heart?"
"I did not."
"Then what did you get the badge for?"
"I don't know." This in a sulky tone.
"Had you a friend of the name of Thomas Thomas?"
"Yes."
"You are aware he confessed everything to Morris?"
"No!" excitedly.
"Well then, I can tell you he did."
"It's a lie."
"Your crest was a broken heart, I believe?"
"It was."
"Why did you choose that?"
"To please myself."
"You know, of course, that you are branded with your own device?"
"Yes."
"Now, with reference to this stick; do you still swear that you never produced it at the Detlij Club?"
"I do."
"Then what would you say if I brought forward a member of the Club to prove it?"
"That he's a liar."
"I have nothing more to ask, your worship," said Dr. Haddon, resuming his seat.
Dick Burton and several minor witnesses were called to complete the case for the prosecution, and the Court adjourned for luncheon.
The Court was, if possible, more crowded than ever when the case was resumed. The atmosphere was oppressive in the extreme, and the attention of everyone was strained to the utmost when Dr. Haddon rose to open the defence.
"May it please your worship. This case has been described by my learned friend as unprecedented in the annals of Australian history. I have no doubt that such is the case, but I sincerely hope from this day onward it may become a common occurrence."
The effect of this opening was electrical and caused a sensation in the Court. The Justices whispered portentously among themselves, in doubt whether the counsel should not be pulled up short.
"I repeat my words," continued the advocate. "I hope it will become a common occurrence, and furthermore I venture to say that there is not an Australian present in this building who will not agree with me when he has heard the evidence. Now the plaintiff, Villiers Wyckliffe, has informed us through his counsel that he lived the life of an English gentleman. The only comment I make on that is to say that his class will need all the help Heaven can give them, for I shall prove their representative to be a villain of the deepest dye. He has acknowledged his connection with the Detlij Club, an infamous institution which is the expression of the depravity, the callousness, the cynicism, the degradation of English Society. He acknowledged also that he was the owner of this stick, and, in spite of his denial, I shall have little difficulty in proving to the satisfaction of the Court that the notches were placed there by his own hand, and that each notch represented was airily described as a broken heart. When I mention to your worship that the notches are fifty in number it will give some indication of the plaintiffs character."
Dr. Haddon had struck the right key-note,and everyone in Court hung upon his words. The silence was profound, and each listener's eager attention grew in intensity as he proceeded to detail the peculiar power of fascination—snake-like, he called it—possessed by the plaintiff. Without any assistance from turgid rhetoric, or indignant denunciation, he depicted it in a manner so simple, yet so direct, that his audience shivered in response. Then, with consummate art, he played upon their sensibilities by picturing the simple homeliness of Amy Johnson's happy family circle, on to the fervour of Reg's devotion, the complete happiness of the young couple up to their disunion under the diabolical arts of Wyckliffe. Gently, but still with a power that swayed them in their own despite, he wrung their sympathies from them with a pathetic recital of Amy's death, showed the blank in the happy home, and roused them to a pitch of enthusiasm over his client's oath of vengeance.
"I have witnesses from England," he continued, "who will speak to his dastardly gallantries there. I have girls from all parts of Australia"—here a constable whispered in his ear. "This constable tells me, your worship, thathe has some difficulty in keeping the witnesses I have just alluded to under control. They have expressed a unanimous wish to have an interview with the plaintiff."
The suggestion of Wyckliffe being handed over to the tender mercies of his Australian victims seemed to tickle the audience and a faint ripple of laughter went round the crowded Court. Wyck, who had been growing more and more fidgetty, here held an excited conversation with his counsel, who rose and said:
"Your worship, my client complains of feeling unwell. May we adjourn?"
"I object to an adjournment," said Dr. Haddon, promptly.
"Then my client instructs me to withdraw the case, as he does not wish to carry the matter further."
"What's that?" said the Chairman, in surprise.
"Well, your worship, if you will allow me to explain," said Mr. Qurves, in his impressive way, "I should like to say that I have never given up a case with greater pleasure than I do this one, for I am an Australian born and I consider the defendants acted like men, and I wish publiclyto apologise for anything I have said to their discredit. I consider them an honour to our country."
"Hear, hear. Hurrah!" burst from all sides.
"Silence!" cried the crier, but he cried in vain.
When silence was in some measure restored, the Chairman remarked:
"If Mr. Wyckliffe wishes to withdraw from the prosecution there is nothing left for the Bench but to dismiss the case. The defendants have undoubtedly broken the law, which we are here to administer, but though we are magistrates, our sympathy is for the Australians, and I cannot help saying that I am glad that our duty demands from us nothing that will prevent them from quitting the Court."
Ringing cheers here broke out from all quarters, which no one wished to check. Even members of the Bench were seen to join in the applause. The Inspector, fearing Wyck might be roughly handled, got him away quietly and sent him off in a cab to his hotel.
Enthusiasm ran high, and the boys had considerable difficulty in leaving the Court. At lastthey got safely into a cab, but even then the crowd refused to leave them unmolested, and the horse was removed and they were dragged in triumph to their hotel.
That evening, the young Australians gave a big banquet at the Town Hall, at which they were the honoured guests. Toasts and complimentary speeches followed one another in rapid succession. Australians love their country, but they love the honour of their women above all.
Everywhere the boys were feted and made much of, and it was a relief to them when they were able to accompany the girls and Mr. and Mrs. Whyte to Tasmania for a lengthy stay at Goodchild's. Here they rested till Reg had recovered his melancholy, till the memory of Wyck and his infamy had become like an evil dream, and life seemed again to offer him a share in its joys, and the future held out the prospect of many happy days to come.
The following is a cutting from theBulletin: