CHAPTER VI.

"Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'dTo bring manslaughter into form, and set quarrellingUpon the head of valour."Timon of Athens,Act 3, Sc. 5.When William made his appearance at the house he found Eleanor, Mrs. Rainsfield, and his sister together in the sitting-room; and, after receiving a severe rating for his cruelty in teasing Kate about her accident, he was asked by Mrs. Rainsfield what had detained him so long at the stables. Upon his replying that he had visited the Billings nothing would satisfy the girls but that he had an object in making such a visit, andthey insisted upon having a detailed account of all his proceedings, and what he saw and heard at the storekeeper's cottage. During his narration of the circumstance we will leave him for a few minutes while we glance at another part of the station.Over the rails of the stockyard fence leaned a man, we might have said a gentleman, smoking a short pipe, and carrying or rather holding in his hand a heavy riding-whip, which we wish the reader particularly to notice for the reason which shall shortly be seen. At his side leant another gentleman with his back to the fence, and his eyes bent on the ground. The first was Bob Smithers, and the other, Mr. Rainsfield; and, at the moment of our discovering them, they were, or had been, in close conclave. Before we proceed to listen to the conversation we will premise by stating one fact, which we have no doubt the reader has conjectured, viz., that the marriage between Bob Smithers and Eleanor had been postponedsine die, or untilsuch time as her health should be thoroughly restored."Yes, I say again, it is a confounded nuisance that the girl is so slow in getting well; she might have broken half a dozen legs, and got right again by this time. I want to get her away from that infernal fellow Ferguson, and all his set; and I shall never do that until I have married Eleanor. Then, by G—! if any of them cross my path, they may expect to meet a tiger." So spoke the puissant Bob Smithers, that had grossly insulted the senior brother of "the set," and submitted ignobly to a blow from the younger; from whom he slunk away like an intimidated cur who had rushed yelping at some wayfarer, and received a warm reception."I don't think you need make yourself at all uneasy, Bob," said his companion. "Though John Ferguson has made overtures to Eleanor, which you know were rejected, it is not very probable that his brother orsister will at all interfere; in fact, I hardly think the young girl, his sister, knows anything about her brother's feelings on that point. Eleanor is exceedingly attached to them, and well she might be, for their behaviour to her has been kind and affectionate in the extreme.""Well, that may be," said Smithers; "but still I hate them, especially that young cub that is here now. He had the audacity to strike me on the night when we paid out his brother; and, but for the intervention of some of the people, I would have killed the young wretch on the spot.""As to striking you," said Mr. Rainsfield, "I am not at all surprised at that. I wouldn't have thought much of the young fellow if he had stood passively by, and seen a practical joke perpetrated on his brother. But why didn't you retaliate, or wait for him till after the ball, and then have given him a good sound horse-whipping?""I couldn't get an opportunity of being athim then," said Smithers, "but I'm d——d if I don't carry out your suggestion now. I'll get an opportunity before he goes away.""If you do I only hope you'll manage it so as not to implicate me," said Mr. Rainsfield. "I don't wish to interfere with your private quarrels; but I would not like the young fellow attacked in my house or in my presence. Though I have quarrelled with his brother I haven't done so with him; and I must say he has been so attentive to Eleanor during her illness that I would consider any countenanced outrage on him would be the offering of an insult to her. Nevertheless, if you have any little settlement to make with him, let it be out of my sight and hearing, and I won't interfere with you.""All right, old fellow," Smithers replied, "you need not fear me, I'll manage it comfortably enough you'll see. I'll get him quietly away from the house, and let him feel the weight of this." Saying which he laid his whip about some imaginary object with aforce that made the missile whiz in the air, and with a determination that plainly portrayed the satisfaction with which he would operate upon his victim."Very well," said Rainsfield, "do as you like. Only, as I said before, don't implicate me, and though I rather like the young man I shall have no objection to hear of the whole matter after it's done."These two worthies then separated, Bob Smithers to seek the opportunity of which he spoke, and the other either to go about some business of the station, or to keep as much out of the way of the coming event as possible. The reader will no doubt wonder how a man of Mr. Rainsfield's generally reputed integrity could reconcile his conscience to such behaviour; and also that he should willingly, and, we may add, collusively aid the suit of a man, of whose mental and moral turpitude he could have had no doubt, in preference to the honourable addresses of a gentleman in every way a more eligible match for hiscousin. "But thereby hangs a tale," and it is our painful task in the office in which we stand, to see that that tale be not suppressed.At an early date after Eleanor's settled sojourn with Mr. Rainsfield he became aware of the existence of an engagement between her and Bob Smithers, from whom we may safely conjecture the knowledge was obtained. When Rainsfield, feeling for the dependent and forlorn condition of his relative, took her to the bosom of his family he did so out of pure sympathy and kindliness towards her, and had no wish or desire to interfere in the disposal of her affections. Consequently he paid very little attention to the matter. But Smithers made a proposal to him which, if it did not excite his cupidity, induced him to think more of the affair as one in which he as a relative, and a protecting relative, had an interest. It had the effect of suborning his countenance to the match, and enlisting his strenuous exertions, to induce Eleanor to accede to the wishes of the Smithers family,and plight herself anew to the man who had already received her youthful acquiescence.The offer that Smithers had made to Rainsfield was this. That they should enter into partnership, and throw their respective properties into one concern, and work together on equal terms. Smithers was to embark all the country he was then possessed of, or the proceeds arising from the sale of any portion, and what capital he could command; and the other was to bring in the stock and station of Strawberry Hill. In making this offer Smithers conceived that he would be benefited by such an arrangement, in so far as he would be able to more effectually stock the immense tracts of country he had taken up. He considered this more advantageous than disposing of the runs; as, he argued by lightly stocking them in the first place, and allowing them to become by gradation fully stocked, through augmentation and the natural increase, he would eventually be possessed of larger property than if he with hisown means only stocked an integral part of his holdings. On the other hand Rainsfield considered the offer as equally worthy of attention to himself, possibly looking at it in the same light. However, he had agreed to it; and this was thedouceurthat had made him a warm partizan of the Smithers' cause; and that had influenced the collusion that worked for the consummation of Bob's, or we might say Mrs. Smithers', matrimonial scheme.With regard to Eleanor, her feelings, we fear, were little dreamt of in the matter. Rainsfield deemed Smithers a good match for her, and possibly believing that she entertained at least some respect for the man, he never imagined for a moment that she could have had any objection. While she, on the other hand, from the continual promptings of her cousin, in the absence in her mind of any other imaginative cause for her cousin's warmth, attributed it to the desire on his part to be relieved of an irksome burden; and she had given her consent.We must admit that women are as equally (it is even affirmed they are more) susceptible than men to the warm affections of the heart; and that as they are inspired by love so are they influenced by aversion. And as a man, we mean of course with honour and conscience, would go to any extremity rather than ally himself to a woman whom he contemned, so would a woman feel as great a repugnance in accepting a man for whom she could not entertain any respect. We do not say that Eleanor actually abhorred Bob Smithers; but we can affirm that she felt no enjoyment in his society, but rather the reverse; and though she had accepted him to avoid the unpleasantness of her situation, the match was positively distasteful to her. Smithers' nature was diametrically opposed to hers. They had no one feeling in common; his tastes were not as her tastes; nor hers as his. Besides, she had an exalted, and perhaps romantic, idea of matrimony. She didn't think it proper to marry for convenience, but imagined it was acompact that was only justly and favourably formed on true love. Not that at the time of her engagement with Smithers she had experienced the sentiment; but she was aware she had entertained the proposal of a man in the absence of it, and therefore had sacrificed a moral principle. But her trial was to come.She then met John Ferguson; and their mutual companionship, if it had had its effects on John, had surely had no less so on her. It is true she had thought no more of him, at first, than as a friend, a kind attentive friend. But then she admired him, his precepts, his manners, his conversation, and his general ingenuousness; she liked him, and found pleasure in his society. Did she think she loved him? It may be she never gave herself a thought on the subject. She was content to live in the pleasing delusion, that John Ferguson was nothing more to her than a friend; but there was her danger. She might have mistaken his manner; misconstrued his feelings; and been blind to themore than ordinary warmth of his greeting. But the pleasure in his company, the delight at his approach, the longing for his presence between the intervals of his visits; and the heart's palpitations, as she felt the welcome touch of his hand in the grasp of friendship, must and did have their own warning voices, to which Eleanor could not shut the ears of her understanding. She suspected he loved her; she read it in his eyes; but she feared to ask herself the question, Was the feeling reciprocated?Next came the explanation. He declared the existence of that lasting affection which never dies. But could she give him hope? could she encourage him in his love? No! she felt she could not. She had voluntarily given herself to another, yet felt she had by her manner incited this one; had probably by her demeanour given him cause to hope, while she was not justified in holding out any. She might have, nay, she even feared she had, destroyed his peace of mind, and allthrough her own selfishness. Why had she not warned him in time? why not forsworn the pleasure to which she had no claim? These were questions she asked herself, but could give no reply, except the sigh her heart chose to offer. Her relationship to Smithers reverted to her mind. That she did not love him, nor he her, she was convinced; then why not accept the love of John Ferguson? She meditated; but in that meditation her principle got the better of her inclinations, and she sacrificed her interest, her happiness, and her comfort, for the inviolable preservation of truth.These scruples were known to Mrs. Rainsfield and Tom, who, we have seen, considered them unnecessarily severe, and combated against them unceasingly, though without making any impression on the mind of Eleanor. They deprecated what they considered her folly, and attempted by all the arts of persuasion to move her from her purpose; but she had been inculcated with aperception of high morality, and an appreciation of strict integrity. Truth had been always represented to her mind as the fundamental basis of all virtue. Her desires and her passions had been regulated to a subserviency to the Christian character, and her nature had been moulded in a religious education. Consequently, upon the dictates of her conscience she acted, and felt she would be guilty of an unpardonable moral offence to refuse her hand where her word had been pledged.In this light, then, the parties stood to one another. Rainsfield was anxious to get his cousin married to Smithers, who was equally uneasy to have the event consummated, as he had serious misgivings on the eventual possession of his prize. Eleanor, though she was by no means anxious to hasten the marriage, had no desire to unnecessarily postpone an occurrence which she could not prevent, but of which latterly, more than ever, she had had cause to dread. However, she knewregrets were vain, and therefore attempted to attune her thoughts and feelings to a strict sense of duty, to forget her own personal likings, and to enter calmly upon the obligations expected of her. Notwithstanding all her fortitude poor Eleanor was but mortal, and she could not sustain the gigantic contest she had undertaken. She strove long and bravely, but her love would at times overcome her, and leave her the constant prey of her feelings, and to a melancholy contemplation of the sacrifice she was making; hence her protracted illness and tardy recovery.But we must return to our narrative. We left William and the ladies in the parlour at Strawberry Hill house, and Bob Smithers walking from the stockyard in that direction, breathing heavy threats of vengeance against the gentleman who had so grievously offended him, and who had escaped his just punishment upon the occasion when the offence was committed. It is needless for us to comment on Bob's version of his affray with WilliamFerguson, as the correct one is already known to the reader; but the tale he told Rainsfield was the one related by him wherever the circumstance of the blow became known.William, as we have said, was sitting in company with the ladies, and was submitting with the greatest docility to be made use of, by lending his hands for the extension of a skein of silk while it was being wound off by Eleanor, when a little boy bearing the Billing impress on his features appeared at the open window, and said he had something to say to Mr. Ferguson."Say it out, my boy," said William, who imagined it might be some formal invitation from the Billing paterfamilias."Please, sir, father told me to tell you a gentleman was waiting down at our house to see you," said the boy."And who is the gentleman, my lad?" asked William."Please, sir, I don't know," he replied;"father only told me a gentleman wanted to speak with you directly.""Is Mr. Rainsfield down at your father's house?" asked William."No, sir," was the reply."Very well; tell the gentleman, or your father, that I will be down there in a few minutes," said William; "and that if the gentleman is in any very particular hurry, it would have been a great saving of his time if he had come up here."Now, the circumstance struck all present (though no one said so) as being rather remarkable, that Smithers, for they knew it could be no other than he, should desire to meet William Ferguson alone, and away from the house. William knowing or suspecting the nature of the coming interview, fearing that his friends would have a similar suspicion, and having no desire to excite their fears, tried to show his coolness and indifference by whistling an air as he left the room. But this oft-repeated stratagem had not thedesired effect of allaying the fears of one, at least, who was cognizant of the quarrel at Brompton and the whole attendant circumstances. This was Eleanor, and she was convinced, from the manner of Smithers, that he meditated some action which he was ashamed to perform within sight of the house. She therefore hastily put on her hat, and prepared to follow William, and being joined by Kate, she stepped out through the window to the green sward in front.Hardly a dozen steps were necessary, to bring them clear of the angle of some outhouses that intercepted the view of the stables and Billing's premises; and as she cleared that angle, it was to this point Eleanor directed her gaze. The sight that she then witnessed showed that she was only too correct in her surmise as to the intentions of Smithers; for there she saw him in high altercation with William, who stood perfectly at ease taking the matter as coolly as possible. His arms were folded across his breast, and apleasant smile played on his features, while his antagonist had worked his wrath up to the culminating point, ready for a mighty explosion; and raved about the ground while he brandished his whip.We will not trouble our readers, or shock their ears or senses, by a recapitulation of the dialogue; suffice it to say, that if warm it was short. So that when Eleanor discovered the disputants she witnessed the exacerbation of Smithers' ire, and the descent of his whip across William's shoulders. The fate of Smithers on this occasion might have been similar to what it was on a former one had not the attention of William been drawn off from his purpose by hearing a loud shriek at his rear. He turned to see whence it came, while his castigator, taking no further heed of the circumstance than to look round to see from whom it emanated, continued to belabour at his victim with redoubled energy.It was Eleanor who had uttered the shriek when she saw the blow struck by Smithers;and instantly flying between the belligerents, throwing her arms around the neck of her intended husband, she exclaimed: "Robert! Robert! for mercy's sake, what are you—" But she was not permitted to finish the sentence for the ruffian whom she had clasped in an embrace that should have melted a heart of stone shouted in her ear, coupled with an expression not fit to be repeated: "What business have you here?" while he flung her from him with a force that hurled her insensibly to the ground, where she lay without a murmur. This was more than the honour and chivalry of William could bear. To be attacked himself he cared little as he was well able to defend himself, and also to retaliate when he thought fit; but to see a brute, without one spark of manly feeling, not only lift his hand to a lady, and that lady a gentle amiable girl who was about to bless him with more earthly happiness than was meet for him to enjoy, but to prostrate her with such force as to momentarily deprive her of vitality,was more than his spirit could placidly endure. The lion was roused in his nature; and, while Kate attended to her fallen friend, he sprung like an infuriated animal on the cowardly villain; wrenched his whip from his hand and let him feel not only the weight ofit, but also of the avenger's athletic arm, in such a way as would cause him to remember it for many a day.When William had thrashed the wretch until he had driven him to seek shelter in the stables, he returned to where still lay the form of Eleanor, who showed no signs of returning consciousness. Feeling alarmed at the lengthened duration of the swoon Kate and her brother thought they had best remove her to the house at once; with which intention William took her in his arms, and carried her in to Mrs. Rainsfield.The good lady was quite alarmed at the appearance of poor Eleanor's features, when her still inanimate form was brought to her. An ashy paleness pervaded her face; her eyeswere closed; and, with the exception of an occasional faint sigh, no signs of life were visible. We say, Mrs. Rainsfield was justly frightened at the appearance of the poor girl, and she asked in an agitated manner: "What is this? what is the matter? Eleanor swooned? Good gracious! what does it mean?""My dear Mrs. Rainsfield," said William, "if you will allow me to tender my advice I would suggest that you instantly put Miss Eleanor to bed. I sadly fear her injuries are severe, and that it is more than a mere swoon under which she is now labouring. Pray, don't delay, but remove her at once; and Kate can tell you all the circumstances. If you will lead the way I will carry her into her room.""Poor Eleanor! and is this too the work of that viper, Smithers?" said Mrs. Rainsfield."It is, indeed!" replied Kate."Oh, the vile wretch!" exclaimed the lady."It is as I thought, he cares not a straw for her life. A man that would treat a tender, loving girl in this way, would be guilty of any enormity; and yet she is so infatuated as to court her own misery by persisting in accepting this monster. Oh! what would I not give to see her safe out of his clutches? But he surely can't have the effrontery to look her in the face after this; nor she so silly as to receive him if he does. Certainly not, if I can dissuade her, and I think I have some good ground to work upon now."By this time William had deposited his burden on the little snow-white bed of the motionless girl, and left the room and the patient to the guardianship of Mrs. Rainsfield and his sister; while he strolled out for a few minutes to calm his agitation, and weigh the circumstances in his mind. He had walked backwards and forwards for about a quarter of an hour when he turned again into the house just as his sister was looking for him."Oh, Will!" she said, "Eleanor is in adreadful state. She is fearfully ill, and we think it is a fever. Mrs. Rainsfield says there is a doctor who has lately settled at Alma, and she was going to send one of the men over for him; but I thought it would be better, to prevent the possibility of any mistake, for you to go. Will you go, and at once, Will?"The answer William gave to his sister's question was to dart off to the stables for his horse; and in a few minutes afterwards he might have been seen galloping through the bush to procure the services of the son of Galen located at the nearest township.CHAPTER VI."Oh! wretch without a tear—without a thought,Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought—The time shalt come, nor long remote, when thouShalt feel far more than thou inflictest now."Byron.When Smithers had partially recovered from the wholesome chastisement administered by William Ferguson, and had witnessed, from his concealment, the hasty departure of his foe, the nature of his journey, and the cause of his precipitance, flashed instantly across his mind; and, we would fain believe, his conscience was visited by compunctions for his unpardonable brutality.He cogitated for some time on the course he was to pursue, and thought of how he could explain away the circumstances; for even to her whom he knew would forgive much he hardly dared venturing an explanation; knowing too well that his conduct was not to any extent defensible. He, however, determined to make the attempt to see Eleanor, and endeavour to remove from her mind any impression that might be injurious to his cause; and with that idea he approached the house.Oh, Smithers, you ignorant inflated fool! How little you know the nature of woman, and how less you can estimate their worth, and appreciate the value of such an one as her who has surrendered her heart to thy keeping! Thinkest thou that it is woman's only province to forgive? That thy perpetual contumely should be continually pardoned, and thou, without any innate goodness or recommendatory virtue, should ever claim the devotion of a spirit the personificationof purity, while thy conduct is such as would make that spirit, were not its adjuncts truth and compassion, shrink with loathing from the vile contamination of your very breath, and a fear of the consequences of your truculence and inhumanity! It is true, some women blinded by the infatuation of love, would sacrifice their happiness, peace, and liberty, even life, on the unworthy object of their ardent affection; but if thou believest this, buoy not thyself up with the idea that all thy sins will be forgiven thee! Eleanor has had much to deprecate in thee! many have been the wounds thy churlishness has inflicted on her gentle nature, and though she was willing to sacrifice all her earthly happiness to maintain intact her truth and honour, yet remember she is not actuated by love, but by an exalted sense of duty. Let her once be convinced that she is exonerated from a performance of that, and thy bird has flown. Duty has a strong tractive influence on a mind attuned to a high appreciation ofintegrity; but love is a still more powerful incentive, and dost thou know thou art not the happy possessor of that love? Yes, thou not only knowest that no such sentiment is felt for you by that being whose purity thou contemnest, but thou fearest, nay, even art certain, that the object of that being's love is another; and that other he whom thou hast striven to make thine enemy! Yet, knowing all this, thinkest thou that woman, frail confiding woman, could trust thee as her mundane protector? Because Eleanor has forgiven much, thou thinkest thyself secure; but if this last is not thecoup de grâcein thy catalogue of contumacious infamies we shall be inclined to deprecate Eleanor's leniency. But to return.One of Bob Smithers' characteristics was a conceited self-complacency that distended his very soul with its blinding virus; and, speaking in the figurative of a popular apothegm, he estimated his commendable qualities as equivalent to no insignificant quantity ofthat mean maltine beverage which we thirsty members of the great Anglo-Saxon family call small-beer. He therefore thought he had but to go to his betrothed with a penitential cast of countenance, and claim as a right, and receive as a matter of course, that forgiveness which he was entitled to expect."I was only", (he said apologetically to himself), "in a bit of 'a scot' at the time, and when she came in my way I pushed her off when she fell. It was her own fault, and she must know I did nothing to her but what any other man similarly situated would have done."At the conclusion of his meditations he stepped on to the verandah of the house, and seeing a servant passing out of the sitting-room, into which he had entered by the window, he called her and asked, "Where was her mistress, or Miss Eleanor?""Miss Eleanor is ill, and missus is with her," replied the girl who looked awkward and rather sheepish at her questioner."Is Miss Eleanor very bad, Mary?" asked Smithers."I think she is, sir," replied she."Mary! Mary!" called a voice that was almost instantly followed by the utterer, Kate, who ran into the room, saying: "Do run out, and try and find Mr. Rainsfield." But she had hardly got the words out of her mouth, as she stood in the doorway of the room, than, catching sight of Smithers, she uttered a faint scream, and fled hastily from his presence. She was instantly followed by the girl, who had partly heard the cause of her young mistress' illness, and was desirous to escape the questioning of one whose character she could also despise.Smithers stood musing for some minutes, not altogether pleased with these evidences of repulsion on the part of Eleanor's friends; but his fears of their influence over her mind were only momentary. He must see her, he said to himself; have an interview with her, and the little difficulty will soon bearranged. Then he would hurry his marriage, he thought, and take Eleanor away from the hated influence. "Those Fergusons," he continued in his soliloquy, "are a pragmatic, hateful lot, and I can't understand why Rainsfield does not keep them away from his place." Smithers firmly believed they had been created for the express purpose of causing him annoyance; and their present especial object in settling in that district was to frustrate his marriage, and rob him of his bride elect. "But he would defeat them," he said to himself, "or he'd be—;" but here his mental reservations were interrupted by Mrs. Rainsfield, who exclaimed as she entered the room: "So, sir! you dare to show yourself again in my house after the vile atrocity you have been guilty of. As to your infamy I do not wonder at it, for it is only the fructification of a nature equally depraved, brutal, and worthless. But after your insulting attack upon a guest of mine, and your cruelty to a gentle and amiable girl that you should haveventured within the precincts of this house I am truly astonished. I know you to be too great a coward to do so did you think there was any possibility of your meeting with the one who so lately gave you your deserts; and I can only attribute your presence now as a further proof of your arrogance, and to an endeavour to insult the female inmates of this dwelling.""I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Rainsfield," replied the object of that lady's invectives; "I never offered any insult to you or any other lady in this house; so your strictures on me are quite uncalled for.""What, sir! can you stand before me with such barefaced effrontery, and tell me such an unequivocal falsehood?" cried the lady. "Have you not insulted me by cajoling from my presence a gentleman, who is my friend and visitor, to basely assault him? and then what do you say of your dastardly behaviour to that girl who was contemplating her ownmisery and destruction by throwing herself away on such a wretch as you?""I decline to answer you, madam," said Smithers, "for your language is most offensive.""Then even you are susceptible on the point of feeling," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "and yet you think I can't feel an insult. I tell you, sir, that if you had subjected me to the treatment that you did Eleanor I should have considered it an offence of the most unpardonable nature. But I love Eleanor even better than I do myself, and you may therefore expect no mercy at my hands. For your offence to myself I shall expect an expiation by your totally absenting yourself from this house; and if I have any influence over the mind of that ill-used girl (which I hope and trust I have), you may rest assured it will be exercised to your disadvantage. So, sir, without any further parley, I have to request that you instantly leave the house.""I shall do nothing of the sort, madam,"replied Smithers, "your husband I presume is the master of this house?""Well, sir, I expect him here every moment," exclaimed the lady, "and if you do not obey my injunctions you shall be forcibly expelled from the premises.""And situated as I am," continued Smithers not heeding the last threat of his irate companion, "with regard to Eleanor, I think I am entitled to see her.""You shall not be admitted to her presence, sir," replied the lady."I wish to see her," said Smithers, "to explain the circumstances under which the accident occurred.""Accident indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Rainsfield. "It requires no explanation, sir, it speaks for itself. I have already had your brutality recounted by an eyewitness.""By her friend I presume and one that is therefore not mine," sneered Smithers, "the sister of that villain who first poisoned Eleanor's mind towards me.""Cease, sir! your invectives against one with whom you are not worthy to be mentioned in the same breath," cried Mrs. Rainsfield. "It was Miss Ferguson who related to me the unmanly and ruffianly manner in which you hurled Eleanor to the ground. She now lies with her life in imminent peril, and yet you have the audacity to stand before me and call it an accident which you will be able to explain.""Yes, madam! I am confident I shall be able to satisfy Eleanor that it was not intentional on my part. I am exceedingly grieved that she should be so extremely ill, but believe me, Mrs. Rainsfield, this once, that if you will permit me to see her only for a few minutes I will be quite contented, and will certainly relieve her mind from any impression of my having wilfully harmed her.""No, sir! it is useless your attempting to alter my determination. I tell you emphatically, that you shall not see her. She is now in a raging fever, and the sight of you at thismoment might extinguish the flickering flame of her existence. To save me from any painful necessity, I trust, sir, you will see the expediency of ceasing your importunities and at once taking your departure.""I much regret that you will not permit me to see Eleanor," exclaimed Smithers, "because I am sure you are acting under a misapprehension of my motives and actions. If you would but permit me to explain, I—""It is useless, sir.""But I am confident you must have been misinformed of the circumstances. Your informant is no friend of mine, and would have consequently given the affair a colouring detrimental to my interests."Mrs. Rainsfield could stand no more of this colloquy, and with difficulty suppressed her rage. It had twice or thrice been just on the point of overflowing; but now it was beyond her power to restrain it. To have her young friend Kate branded as a liar by the infamous viper before her struck herdumb with indignation; and it was some moments before she regained the power of utterance, when she exclaimed:"You mean grovelling, despicable villain! You must of necessity add to your opprobriousness by including Miss Ferguson among those whom you choose to insult, and attack her with your scurrility. Because you generate lies yourself do you think she is capable of uttering falsehoods? I will endure you no longer. Instantly leave this house, sir, do you hear me? or I'll—""Pray, what is the matter, my dear?" enquired Mr. Rainsfield, who entered at this moment."Oh, John! cause that man to leave the house, and I'll tell you," replied his wife."My dear Rainsfield," commenced Smithers, but was cut short by the infuriated lady, who exclaimed:"Not a word in my presence, sir. I have already ordered you to leave the house; do you intend to obey me?" Then, turning toher husband, Mrs. Rainsfield said in a voice almost choking with passion: "John, will you not assist and support me? I have been grossly insulted by that man, who persists in defying me. Is he to continue doing so?" and she sank into a chair, and gave vent to her excited feelings in a flood of tears.Rainsfield was not one of those unfortunates, belonging to that class of marital bipeds known as "hen-pecked husbands," though he was certainly of an uxorious disposition. It cannot therefore be supposed that he could have calmly witnessed the distress of mind his spouse evidently appeared to be in without feeling some sympathy; and she being in that state in which philosophers tell us woman soonest touches the heart of inexorable man, viz., in tears, that sympathy was heightened. Rainsfield's connubial heart was softened at the evidence of his wife's woes; he therefore turned to Smithers, and said: "Leave us together just now, Bob; I'll see you before you go."It must be distinctly understood that though Rainsfield, as he was in duty bound, sided with his wife on this occasion, he had no desire to quarrel with Smithers, even if his wife had; far from it. It is true he had heard something of the little fracas of flogging and fainting; but that was nothing to him. If the young men chose to quarrel, he considered, let them do so! and if his cousin chose to interfere, and get hard knocks for so doing, he could not help it. If the girl had fainted it was a pity, but what influence had he over her syncope? Women always made a great deal, he thought, about those things, but generally cool down after a while and forget such little grievances. So when he communicated to Smithers his wish that he should leave the house, he did so with an expression in his look that plainly said: "Never mind, old fellow, you will lose nothing by leaving your case in my hands." The delinquent, we have no doubt, fully understood it, for he instantly obeyed the behest.Let it be said, however, to the credit of Mr. Rainsfield, that as he took this view of the case he was only aware that Eleanor had fainted and was ill; but had no idea that William Ferguson had gone off to Alma for a doctor, and that Eleanor's case was so dangerous. He therefore imagined that his wife had magnified her danger, and the heinousness of Smithers' crime; and consequently thought more lightly of the whole affair than did his partner. But he was shortly to be undeceived.As Smithers left the room Rainsfield took a seat beside his wife and said: "Well, my dear, what is the cause of all this? you seem agitated. I have heard something of what has happened, but surely that is not sufficient cause for your angry altercation with Bob Smithers, and making yourself miserable.""Do you not think so, John?" she replied; "first to have Eleanor nearly brought to death's door (for she is in such a raging fever that I have been compelled to get WilliamFerguson to go to Alma for a doctor), and then to be insulted and openly defied in my own house by the villain who is the cause of it all; do you not think that is sufficient to make me agitated?""Certainly, my dear," replied her husband, "the matter appears to me in a new light. I was not aware it was of so serious a nature; pray tell me all about it."Mrs. Rainsfield was not long in replying to this mandate, and speedily gave her husband a detailed account of the horrors of Smithers' proceedings, permitting them in nowise to lose in her narrative any of their force and piquancy. She then wound up her recapitulation of atrocities by demanding to know if her husband could think of permitting so vile a man to darken his door again. "Understand me, John," she said, "I shall expect you to protect me against him and his insults: and that can't be done while his presence here is tolerated. If ever he enters this house I shall most assuredly consider thatyou are conniving at his insolence, and shall certainly confine myself to my own room during his stay."We have seen that Mr. Rainsfield was mindful of his wife's wishes, but at the same time had no desire to make a breach with Smithers; consequently he found himself in a dilemma, from which he saw no extrication without giving offence to one or other of the parties. He therefore made no promise to his wife."You don't answer me, John," said she, "what am I to consider you think of his conduct?""Well, my dear," replied her husband, "I really can't tell. It is certainly reprehensible, but there is no use quarrelling with Smithers. If it is any satisfaction to you that he should not visit us I dare say he will not trouble you; but for my own part I can't see how you can expect him to forego his right to see Eleanor.""Eleanor herself, when she recovers, if sheever does, will relieve him from that obligation," replied Mrs. Rainsfield."How can you say that?" said her husband. "She has expressed no intention of doing so.""No, certainly; the poor girl is not in a state to express any determination," replied the wife; "but do you think she will suffer herself to be led to the altar by a brute like him, a man who has shown himself on more than one occasion quite unworthy of her? If she has got the spirit I think she has she will treat him with that contempt which he deserves.""I see how it is," exclaimed Rainsfield, "you are prejudiced against Smithers.""Prejudiced against Smithers, John?" replied his wife; "yes, I may be, but not in the sense you mean. You fancy I dislike the man because I would prefer Eleanor to accept another but you are mistaken. Hitherto I never disliked Smithers as a man, but as a suitor of Eleanor I certainly abhor him; andfor this reason that I saw her inevitable fate would be misery and wretchedness if she were ever mated to him. Now though I have more than ever cause not only to detest him for his insolence to me but to fear him for Eleanor's life.""You are infatuated against him," replied the husband. "And for this quarrel of yours you would wish to destroy his happiness irrespective of the feelings of Eleanor herself. You say she is really ill and cannot be spoken to on the subject; then at present let the matter rest until her recovery.""On one condition only," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "and that is that Smithers in the interval be banished from the house. If you agree to that I am content to leave his further expatriation to her good judgment.""So let it be," replied her husband. "I'll see Bob, and try to persuade him to let the settlement of the affair remain instatu quo."With that the couple parted, the wife to return to the sick room, and the husband toseek Smithers. We will not trace their steps on their respective missions but merely state that Mrs. Rainsfield and Kate passed an anxious night with their invalid. At an early hour on the following morning, hearing a horseman's step passing the house, while they were anxiously expecting the doctor, Mrs. Rainsfield looked from the window of the room where she was keeping her vigils and detected the retreating outline of Bob Smithers' form as he departed for his home. Her husband she had not seen since their interview in the parlour, but as she had not since that time left Eleanor's bedside it gave her no concern; or at least she never thought of an absence of which she was not cognizant. However he had been absent all night, and while the doctor, who had arrived with William shortly after the departure of Smithers, was administering his febrifuges to poor Eleanor he was enacting the scene which we will detail to the reader.Rainsfield had had a long conversationwith Smithers on the subject that had been communicated to him by his wife; and had, after a good deal of persuasion, induced him to agree to absent himself from Strawberry Hill until Eleanor's recovery.Smithers, when he found his companion disposed to favour him, was the louder in his asseverations of guiltlessness; demanding an instant opportunity of explanation, and vowing vengeance against everybody concerned, and John Rainsfield in particular, for not being master in his own house. However Rainsfield, though he was inclined to forget his dignity by stooping to entreaty with him, was nevertheless firm to his purpose, and not to be intimidated by his blustering; and at last succeeded in inducing him to promise to take his departure by daylight the following morning, so as to avoid the possibility of any further unpleasantness. With that he left him to his own meditations, and walked away.Mr. Rainsfield had not taken many stepsbeyond the out-buildings belonging to the house before he heard his own name called in a cautious manner from behind a tree; and, glancing his eye in the direction whence came the voice, he was startled to see the stalwart figure of a black, half concealed behind the trunk, beckoning him with his finger. The suddenness of the apparition for some moments unnerved him, and deprived him of the power of utterance. He, however, mastered his fears; and, as his self-control returned, he demanded to know what the black wanted with him."You know me, Mr. Rainsfield?" replied the black, "I'm Jemmy Davies.""Oh, yes, I know you," replied Mr. Rainsfield, "but I thought you and the whole of your tribe had left the country.""So we did, sir, but we've all come back again, and a great many more of the tribe too, and they are determined to kill you. Barwang and all Dugingi's friends will kill you, and I can't prevent them though I've tried; forthey are too strong for me. So I've come to give you warning.""They intend to kill me, do they? then, by G—! they shall repent their rash resolve. But how am I to believe this?" asked Mr. Rainsfield of the black. "You! you wretch, have you got some vile scheme in your head. Think yourself fortunate that I've no gun with me or I'd shoot you on the spot.""You wouldn't shoot me," replied Jemmy Davies; "didn't Mr. Tom tell you that I'm always a good friend to you, how I tried to stop Dugingi from stealing your rations when you killed so many of our tribe; and now I come to tell you that they want to kill you and you think me no good. But what for do you think, Mr. Rainsfield, I want to do you harm? If I want to see you die I wouldn't tell you of this; but let the black fellows kill you. If you will not believe me I can't help it; but if you like to come down to the crossing-place to-night at dark I'll meet you and show you our camp in the scrub; whenyou will see if I tell you a lie. I will stop Barwang and his friends as long as I can, but I can't prevent them altogether from coming to you; so you had better look out and be ready."This warning sounded as an avenging declaration in the ear of Rainsfield. He had for sometime flattered himself on his security and tranquillity; and hoped, nay even believed, that he had effectually ridden himself of a hitherto incessant annoyance. But now that the surviving friends of his foes had returned, with the avowed object of seeking vengeance, he was troubled in his mind. He, however, determined to further question his informant, and, rousing himself from a reverie into which he had fallen, perceived that the black had departed. Mr. Rainsfield dragged through the remainder of the day with a heavy heart, and never more than then regretted the absence of his brother. Should he accept the black's invitation? he asked himself. It would be a satisfaction to knowin what force they were collected; but then (he thought) the messenger might mean treachery. However, he would go; he could detect it if it existed, and if it was attempted he could shoot the wretch before he had time or opportunity to betray him. Yes (he thought) he would arm himself well, and meet Jemmy Davies at the time and place he appointed."I'm glad you've come, Mr. Rainsfield," exclaimed the black, emerging from the obscurity of the bush, as the squatter rode down to the bank of the river some few hours after the last interview."Yes I've come," said Rainsfield, "and at your bidding; but see I am well armed," as he pointed to a brace of revolvers in his belt, "and, if you are attempting to play me false, the first shot I'll fire shall be through your body.""Never fear me, Mr. Rainsfield," replied Jemmy Davies, "I'm not going to betray you. My greatest fear is not from your pistols butfrom the tomahawks of my tribe; for if they find me with you they will be sure to kill me.""Very well," said Rainsfield, "I'll follow you, lead the way;" and the two crossed the stream in silence."You had better leave your horse here, sir," said the guide, "in case he should be heard by the tribe."Rainsfield acted on this hint and dismounted; and fastening the animal to a tree, he said to the black: "Now you can go on, but remember if this is a trap for me you had better think twice before you proceed; for I shall keep my hand ready to lodge a ball in your heart the moment I perceive any treachery.""Never be afraid, sir," replied the black, who continued to thread the scrub in silence with his companion close to his heels. When they had proceeded thus for some little time Rainsfield perceived by the appearance of lights, and the noise of the blacks' voices,that they were nearing "the camp." Jemmy Davies desired him to keep close to him, and make no noise, as they were nearer the camp than appeared through the thick scrub, and then led him a few steps further forward, when the whole tribe became plainly discernible. They then dropt on their hands and knees and crept close up to what we may call the circumvallation of the gunyahs; and the crouching white man surveyed intently the scene before him. Then would have been the time to have profited by his position if treachery had been meditated; but not a leaf stirred around them, while Rainsfield was lost in a reverie none of the most pleasant. He was, however, aroused from this by Jemmy Davies, who pointed to a group apart from the body of the tribe consisting of about fifteen men, who were all armed with their spears, nullanullas, and boomerangs, and were painted for a corroboree. One black, taller than the rest, was haranguing them at the moment, and his hearers were apparentlyacquiescing in his directions, from the yells and other marks of approbation with which they from time to time greeted his diatribe."That's Barwang and his friends," whispered Jemmy as he drew away his companion from the spot. "They will have a great corroboree to-morrow, and then you look out. To-morrow night they will come up to the station to watch, very likely they will be somewhere about where you saw me this morning; so if you keep some one on the look-out, and fire some shots into the bush, they will think you see them and keep away. They won't do anything to-morrow night, but watch. When they come up to kill you there will come a great many, so keep looking out."Rainsfield and his companion returned to the crossing-place, when the former mounted his horse and passed through the river, while the latter returned to his tribe.CHAPTER VII.

"Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'dTo bring manslaughter into form, and set quarrellingUpon the head of valour."Timon of Athens,Act 3, Sc. 5.

"Your words have took such pains, as if they labour'dTo bring manslaughter into form, and set quarrellingUpon the head of valour."Timon of Athens,Act 3, Sc. 5.

When William made his appearance at the house he found Eleanor, Mrs. Rainsfield, and his sister together in the sitting-room; and, after receiving a severe rating for his cruelty in teasing Kate about her accident, he was asked by Mrs. Rainsfield what had detained him so long at the stables. Upon his replying that he had visited the Billings nothing would satisfy the girls but that he had an object in making such a visit, andthey insisted upon having a detailed account of all his proceedings, and what he saw and heard at the storekeeper's cottage. During his narration of the circumstance we will leave him for a few minutes while we glance at another part of the station.

Over the rails of the stockyard fence leaned a man, we might have said a gentleman, smoking a short pipe, and carrying or rather holding in his hand a heavy riding-whip, which we wish the reader particularly to notice for the reason which shall shortly be seen. At his side leant another gentleman with his back to the fence, and his eyes bent on the ground. The first was Bob Smithers, and the other, Mr. Rainsfield; and, at the moment of our discovering them, they were, or had been, in close conclave. Before we proceed to listen to the conversation we will premise by stating one fact, which we have no doubt the reader has conjectured, viz., that the marriage between Bob Smithers and Eleanor had been postponedsine die, or untilsuch time as her health should be thoroughly restored.

"Yes, I say again, it is a confounded nuisance that the girl is so slow in getting well; she might have broken half a dozen legs, and got right again by this time. I want to get her away from that infernal fellow Ferguson, and all his set; and I shall never do that until I have married Eleanor. Then, by G—! if any of them cross my path, they may expect to meet a tiger." So spoke the puissant Bob Smithers, that had grossly insulted the senior brother of "the set," and submitted ignobly to a blow from the younger; from whom he slunk away like an intimidated cur who had rushed yelping at some wayfarer, and received a warm reception.

"I don't think you need make yourself at all uneasy, Bob," said his companion. "Though John Ferguson has made overtures to Eleanor, which you know were rejected, it is not very probable that his brother orsister will at all interfere; in fact, I hardly think the young girl, his sister, knows anything about her brother's feelings on that point. Eleanor is exceedingly attached to them, and well she might be, for their behaviour to her has been kind and affectionate in the extreme."

"Well, that may be," said Smithers; "but still I hate them, especially that young cub that is here now. He had the audacity to strike me on the night when we paid out his brother; and, but for the intervention of some of the people, I would have killed the young wretch on the spot."

"As to striking you," said Mr. Rainsfield, "I am not at all surprised at that. I wouldn't have thought much of the young fellow if he had stood passively by, and seen a practical joke perpetrated on his brother. But why didn't you retaliate, or wait for him till after the ball, and then have given him a good sound horse-whipping?"

"I couldn't get an opportunity of being athim then," said Smithers, "but I'm d——d if I don't carry out your suggestion now. I'll get an opportunity before he goes away."

"If you do I only hope you'll manage it so as not to implicate me," said Mr. Rainsfield. "I don't wish to interfere with your private quarrels; but I would not like the young fellow attacked in my house or in my presence. Though I have quarrelled with his brother I haven't done so with him; and I must say he has been so attentive to Eleanor during her illness that I would consider any countenanced outrage on him would be the offering of an insult to her. Nevertheless, if you have any little settlement to make with him, let it be out of my sight and hearing, and I won't interfere with you."

"All right, old fellow," Smithers replied, "you need not fear me, I'll manage it comfortably enough you'll see. I'll get him quietly away from the house, and let him feel the weight of this." Saying which he laid his whip about some imaginary object with aforce that made the missile whiz in the air, and with a determination that plainly portrayed the satisfaction with which he would operate upon his victim.

"Very well," said Rainsfield, "do as you like. Only, as I said before, don't implicate me, and though I rather like the young man I shall have no objection to hear of the whole matter after it's done."

These two worthies then separated, Bob Smithers to seek the opportunity of which he spoke, and the other either to go about some business of the station, or to keep as much out of the way of the coming event as possible. The reader will no doubt wonder how a man of Mr. Rainsfield's generally reputed integrity could reconcile his conscience to such behaviour; and also that he should willingly, and, we may add, collusively aid the suit of a man, of whose mental and moral turpitude he could have had no doubt, in preference to the honourable addresses of a gentleman in every way a more eligible match for hiscousin. "But thereby hangs a tale," and it is our painful task in the office in which we stand, to see that that tale be not suppressed.

At an early date after Eleanor's settled sojourn with Mr. Rainsfield he became aware of the existence of an engagement between her and Bob Smithers, from whom we may safely conjecture the knowledge was obtained. When Rainsfield, feeling for the dependent and forlorn condition of his relative, took her to the bosom of his family he did so out of pure sympathy and kindliness towards her, and had no wish or desire to interfere in the disposal of her affections. Consequently he paid very little attention to the matter. But Smithers made a proposal to him which, if it did not excite his cupidity, induced him to think more of the affair as one in which he as a relative, and a protecting relative, had an interest. It had the effect of suborning his countenance to the match, and enlisting his strenuous exertions, to induce Eleanor to accede to the wishes of the Smithers family,and plight herself anew to the man who had already received her youthful acquiescence.

The offer that Smithers had made to Rainsfield was this. That they should enter into partnership, and throw their respective properties into one concern, and work together on equal terms. Smithers was to embark all the country he was then possessed of, or the proceeds arising from the sale of any portion, and what capital he could command; and the other was to bring in the stock and station of Strawberry Hill. In making this offer Smithers conceived that he would be benefited by such an arrangement, in so far as he would be able to more effectually stock the immense tracts of country he had taken up. He considered this more advantageous than disposing of the runs; as, he argued by lightly stocking them in the first place, and allowing them to become by gradation fully stocked, through augmentation and the natural increase, he would eventually be possessed of larger property than if he with hisown means only stocked an integral part of his holdings. On the other hand Rainsfield considered the offer as equally worthy of attention to himself, possibly looking at it in the same light. However, he had agreed to it; and this was thedouceurthat had made him a warm partizan of the Smithers' cause; and that had influenced the collusion that worked for the consummation of Bob's, or we might say Mrs. Smithers', matrimonial scheme.

With regard to Eleanor, her feelings, we fear, were little dreamt of in the matter. Rainsfield deemed Smithers a good match for her, and possibly believing that she entertained at least some respect for the man, he never imagined for a moment that she could have had any objection. While she, on the other hand, from the continual promptings of her cousin, in the absence in her mind of any other imaginative cause for her cousin's warmth, attributed it to the desire on his part to be relieved of an irksome burden; and she had given her consent.

We must admit that women are as equally (it is even affirmed they are more) susceptible than men to the warm affections of the heart; and that as they are inspired by love so are they influenced by aversion. And as a man, we mean of course with honour and conscience, would go to any extremity rather than ally himself to a woman whom he contemned, so would a woman feel as great a repugnance in accepting a man for whom she could not entertain any respect. We do not say that Eleanor actually abhorred Bob Smithers; but we can affirm that she felt no enjoyment in his society, but rather the reverse; and though she had accepted him to avoid the unpleasantness of her situation, the match was positively distasteful to her. Smithers' nature was diametrically opposed to hers. They had no one feeling in common; his tastes were not as her tastes; nor hers as his. Besides, she had an exalted, and perhaps romantic, idea of matrimony. She didn't think it proper to marry for convenience, but imagined it was acompact that was only justly and favourably formed on true love. Not that at the time of her engagement with Smithers she had experienced the sentiment; but she was aware she had entertained the proposal of a man in the absence of it, and therefore had sacrificed a moral principle. But her trial was to come.

She then met John Ferguson; and their mutual companionship, if it had had its effects on John, had surely had no less so on her. It is true she had thought no more of him, at first, than as a friend, a kind attentive friend. But then she admired him, his precepts, his manners, his conversation, and his general ingenuousness; she liked him, and found pleasure in his society. Did she think she loved him? It may be she never gave herself a thought on the subject. She was content to live in the pleasing delusion, that John Ferguson was nothing more to her than a friend; but there was her danger. She might have mistaken his manner; misconstrued his feelings; and been blind to themore than ordinary warmth of his greeting. But the pleasure in his company, the delight at his approach, the longing for his presence between the intervals of his visits; and the heart's palpitations, as she felt the welcome touch of his hand in the grasp of friendship, must and did have their own warning voices, to which Eleanor could not shut the ears of her understanding. She suspected he loved her; she read it in his eyes; but she feared to ask herself the question, Was the feeling reciprocated?

Next came the explanation. He declared the existence of that lasting affection which never dies. But could she give him hope? could she encourage him in his love? No! she felt she could not. She had voluntarily given herself to another, yet felt she had by her manner incited this one; had probably by her demeanour given him cause to hope, while she was not justified in holding out any. She might have, nay, she even feared she had, destroyed his peace of mind, and allthrough her own selfishness. Why had she not warned him in time? why not forsworn the pleasure to which she had no claim? These were questions she asked herself, but could give no reply, except the sigh her heart chose to offer. Her relationship to Smithers reverted to her mind. That she did not love him, nor he her, she was convinced; then why not accept the love of John Ferguson? She meditated; but in that meditation her principle got the better of her inclinations, and she sacrificed her interest, her happiness, and her comfort, for the inviolable preservation of truth.

These scruples were known to Mrs. Rainsfield and Tom, who, we have seen, considered them unnecessarily severe, and combated against them unceasingly, though without making any impression on the mind of Eleanor. They deprecated what they considered her folly, and attempted by all the arts of persuasion to move her from her purpose; but she had been inculcated with aperception of high morality, and an appreciation of strict integrity. Truth had been always represented to her mind as the fundamental basis of all virtue. Her desires and her passions had been regulated to a subserviency to the Christian character, and her nature had been moulded in a religious education. Consequently, upon the dictates of her conscience she acted, and felt she would be guilty of an unpardonable moral offence to refuse her hand where her word had been pledged.

In this light, then, the parties stood to one another. Rainsfield was anxious to get his cousin married to Smithers, who was equally uneasy to have the event consummated, as he had serious misgivings on the eventual possession of his prize. Eleanor, though she was by no means anxious to hasten the marriage, had no desire to unnecessarily postpone an occurrence which she could not prevent, but of which latterly, more than ever, she had had cause to dread. However, she knewregrets were vain, and therefore attempted to attune her thoughts and feelings to a strict sense of duty, to forget her own personal likings, and to enter calmly upon the obligations expected of her. Notwithstanding all her fortitude poor Eleanor was but mortal, and she could not sustain the gigantic contest she had undertaken. She strove long and bravely, but her love would at times overcome her, and leave her the constant prey of her feelings, and to a melancholy contemplation of the sacrifice she was making; hence her protracted illness and tardy recovery.

But we must return to our narrative. We left William and the ladies in the parlour at Strawberry Hill house, and Bob Smithers walking from the stockyard in that direction, breathing heavy threats of vengeance against the gentleman who had so grievously offended him, and who had escaped his just punishment upon the occasion when the offence was committed. It is needless for us to comment on Bob's version of his affray with WilliamFerguson, as the correct one is already known to the reader; but the tale he told Rainsfield was the one related by him wherever the circumstance of the blow became known.

William, as we have said, was sitting in company with the ladies, and was submitting with the greatest docility to be made use of, by lending his hands for the extension of a skein of silk while it was being wound off by Eleanor, when a little boy bearing the Billing impress on his features appeared at the open window, and said he had something to say to Mr. Ferguson.

"Say it out, my boy," said William, who imagined it might be some formal invitation from the Billing paterfamilias.

"Please, sir, father told me to tell you a gentleman was waiting down at our house to see you," said the boy.

"And who is the gentleman, my lad?" asked William.

"Please, sir, I don't know," he replied;"father only told me a gentleman wanted to speak with you directly."

"Is Mr. Rainsfield down at your father's house?" asked William.

"No, sir," was the reply.

"Very well; tell the gentleman, or your father, that I will be down there in a few minutes," said William; "and that if the gentleman is in any very particular hurry, it would have been a great saving of his time if he had come up here."

Now, the circumstance struck all present (though no one said so) as being rather remarkable, that Smithers, for they knew it could be no other than he, should desire to meet William Ferguson alone, and away from the house. William knowing or suspecting the nature of the coming interview, fearing that his friends would have a similar suspicion, and having no desire to excite their fears, tried to show his coolness and indifference by whistling an air as he left the room. But this oft-repeated stratagem had not thedesired effect of allaying the fears of one, at least, who was cognizant of the quarrel at Brompton and the whole attendant circumstances. This was Eleanor, and she was convinced, from the manner of Smithers, that he meditated some action which he was ashamed to perform within sight of the house. She therefore hastily put on her hat, and prepared to follow William, and being joined by Kate, she stepped out through the window to the green sward in front.

Hardly a dozen steps were necessary, to bring them clear of the angle of some outhouses that intercepted the view of the stables and Billing's premises; and as she cleared that angle, it was to this point Eleanor directed her gaze. The sight that she then witnessed showed that she was only too correct in her surmise as to the intentions of Smithers; for there she saw him in high altercation with William, who stood perfectly at ease taking the matter as coolly as possible. His arms were folded across his breast, and apleasant smile played on his features, while his antagonist had worked his wrath up to the culminating point, ready for a mighty explosion; and raved about the ground while he brandished his whip.

We will not trouble our readers, or shock their ears or senses, by a recapitulation of the dialogue; suffice it to say, that if warm it was short. So that when Eleanor discovered the disputants she witnessed the exacerbation of Smithers' ire, and the descent of his whip across William's shoulders. The fate of Smithers on this occasion might have been similar to what it was on a former one had not the attention of William been drawn off from his purpose by hearing a loud shriek at his rear. He turned to see whence it came, while his castigator, taking no further heed of the circumstance than to look round to see from whom it emanated, continued to belabour at his victim with redoubled energy.

It was Eleanor who had uttered the shriek when she saw the blow struck by Smithers;and instantly flying between the belligerents, throwing her arms around the neck of her intended husband, she exclaimed: "Robert! Robert! for mercy's sake, what are you—" But she was not permitted to finish the sentence for the ruffian whom she had clasped in an embrace that should have melted a heart of stone shouted in her ear, coupled with an expression not fit to be repeated: "What business have you here?" while he flung her from him with a force that hurled her insensibly to the ground, where she lay without a murmur. This was more than the honour and chivalry of William could bear. To be attacked himself he cared little as he was well able to defend himself, and also to retaliate when he thought fit; but to see a brute, without one spark of manly feeling, not only lift his hand to a lady, and that lady a gentle amiable girl who was about to bless him with more earthly happiness than was meet for him to enjoy, but to prostrate her with such force as to momentarily deprive her of vitality,was more than his spirit could placidly endure. The lion was roused in his nature; and, while Kate attended to her fallen friend, he sprung like an infuriated animal on the cowardly villain; wrenched his whip from his hand and let him feel not only the weight ofit, but also of the avenger's athletic arm, in such a way as would cause him to remember it for many a day.

When William had thrashed the wretch until he had driven him to seek shelter in the stables, he returned to where still lay the form of Eleanor, who showed no signs of returning consciousness. Feeling alarmed at the lengthened duration of the swoon Kate and her brother thought they had best remove her to the house at once; with which intention William took her in his arms, and carried her in to Mrs. Rainsfield.

The good lady was quite alarmed at the appearance of poor Eleanor's features, when her still inanimate form was brought to her. An ashy paleness pervaded her face; her eyeswere closed; and, with the exception of an occasional faint sigh, no signs of life were visible. We say, Mrs. Rainsfield was justly frightened at the appearance of the poor girl, and she asked in an agitated manner: "What is this? what is the matter? Eleanor swooned? Good gracious! what does it mean?"

"My dear Mrs. Rainsfield," said William, "if you will allow me to tender my advice I would suggest that you instantly put Miss Eleanor to bed. I sadly fear her injuries are severe, and that it is more than a mere swoon under which she is now labouring. Pray, don't delay, but remove her at once; and Kate can tell you all the circumstances. If you will lead the way I will carry her into her room."

"Poor Eleanor! and is this too the work of that viper, Smithers?" said Mrs. Rainsfield.

"It is, indeed!" replied Kate.

"Oh, the vile wretch!" exclaimed the lady."It is as I thought, he cares not a straw for her life. A man that would treat a tender, loving girl in this way, would be guilty of any enormity; and yet she is so infatuated as to court her own misery by persisting in accepting this monster. Oh! what would I not give to see her safe out of his clutches? But he surely can't have the effrontery to look her in the face after this; nor she so silly as to receive him if he does. Certainly not, if I can dissuade her, and I think I have some good ground to work upon now."

By this time William had deposited his burden on the little snow-white bed of the motionless girl, and left the room and the patient to the guardianship of Mrs. Rainsfield and his sister; while he strolled out for a few minutes to calm his agitation, and weigh the circumstances in his mind. He had walked backwards and forwards for about a quarter of an hour when he turned again into the house just as his sister was looking for him.

"Oh, Will!" she said, "Eleanor is in adreadful state. She is fearfully ill, and we think it is a fever. Mrs. Rainsfield says there is a doctor who has lately settled at Alma, and she was going to send one of the men over for him; but I thought it would be better, to prevent the possibility of any mistake, for you to go. Will you go, and at once, Will?"

The answer William gave to his sister's question was to dart off to the stables for his horse; and in a few minutes afterwards he might have been seen galloping through the bush to procure the services of the son of Galen located at the nearest township.

"Oh! wretch without a tear—without a thought,Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought—The time shalt come, nor long remote, when thouShalt feel far more than thou inflictest now."Byron.

"Oh! wretch without a tear—without a thought,Save joy above the ruin thou hast wrought—The time shalt come, nor long remote, when thouShalt feel far more than thou inflictest now."Byron.

When Smithers had partially recovered from the wholesome chastisement administered by William Ferguson, and had witnessed, from his concealment, the hasty departure of his foe, the nature of his journey, and the cause of his precipitance, flashed instantly across his mind; and, we would fain believe, his conscience was visited by compunctions for his unpardonable brutality.He cogitated for some time on the course he was to pursue, and thought of how he could explain away the circumstances; for even to her whom he knew would forgive much he hardly dared venturing an explanation; knowing too well that his conduct was not to any extent defensible. He, however, determined to make the attempt to see Eleanor, and endeavour to remove from her mind any impression that might be injurious to his cause; and with that idea he approached the house.

Oh, Smithers, you ignorant inflated fool! How little you know the nature of woman, and how less you can estimate their worth, and appreciate the value of such an one as her who has surrendered her heart to thy keeping! Thinkest thou that it is woman's only province to forgive? That thy perpetual contumely should be continually pardoned, and thou, without any innate goodness or recommendatory virtue, should ever claim the devotion of a spirit the personificationof purity, while thy conduct is such as would make that spirit, were not its adjuncts truth and compassion, shrink with loathing from the vile contamination of your very breath, and a fear of the consequences of your truculence and inhumanity! It is true, some women blinded by the infatuation of love, would sacrifice their happiness, peace, and liberty, even life, on the unworthy object of their ardent affection; but if thou believest this, buoy not thyself up with the idea that all thy sins will be forgiven thee! Eleanor has had much to deprecate in thee! many have been the wounds thy churlishness has inflicted on her gentle nature, and though she was willing to sacrifice all her earthly happiness to maintain intact her truth and honour, yet remember she is not actuated by love, but by an exalted sense of duty. Let her once be convinced that she is exonerated from a performance of that, and thy bird has flown. Duty has a strong tractive influence on a mind attuned to a high appreciation ofintegrity; but love is a still more powerful incentive, and dost thou know thou art not the happy possessor of that love? Yes, thou not only knowest that no such sentiment is felt for you by that being whose purity thou contemnest, but thou fearest, nay, even art certain, that the object of that being's love is another; and that other he whom thou hast striven to make thine enemy! Yet, knowing all this, thinkest thou that woman, frail confiding woman, could trust thee as her mundane protector? Because Eleanor has forgiven much, thou thinkest thyself secure; but if this last is not thecoup de grâcein thy catalogue of contumacious infamies we shall be inclined to deprecate Eleanor's leniency. But to return.

One of Bob Smithers' characteristics was a conceited self-complacency that distended his very soul with its blinding virus; and, speaking in the figurative of a popular apothegm, he estimated his commendable qualities as equivalent to no insignificant quantity ofthat mean maltine beverage which we thirsty members of the great Anglo-Saxon family call small-beer. He therefore thought he had but to go to his betrothed with a penitential cast of countenance, and claim as a right, and receive as a matter of course, that forgiveness which he was entitled to expect.

"I was only", (he said apologetically to himself), "in a bit of 'a scot' at the time, and when she came in my way I pushed her off when she fell. It was her own fault, and she must know I did nothing to her but what any other man similarly situated would have done."

At the conclusion of his meditations he stepped on to the verandah of the house, and seeing a servant passing out of the sitting-room, into which he had entered by the window, he called her and asked, "Where was her mistress, or Miss Eleanor?"

"Miss Eleanor is ill, and missus is with her," replied the girl who looked awkward and rather sheepish at her questioner.

"Is Miss Eleanor very bad, Mary?" asked Smithers.

"I think she is, sir," replied she.

"Mary! Mary!" called a voice that was almost instantly followed by the utterer, Kate, who ran into the room, saying: "Do run out, and try and find Mr. Rainsfield." But she had hardly got the words out of her mouth, as she stood in the doorway of the room, than, catching sight of Smithers, she uttered a faint scream, and fled hastily from his presence. She was instantly followed by the girl, who had partly heard the cause of her young mistress' illness, and was desirous to escape the questioning of one whose character she could also despise.

Smithers stood musing for some minutes, not altogether pleased with these evidences of repulsion on the part of Eleanor's friends; but his fears of their influence over her mind were only momentary. He must see her, he said to himself; have an interview with her, and the little difficulty will soon bearranged. Then he would hurry his marriage, he thought, and take Eleanor away from the hated influence. "Those Fergusons," he continued in his soliloquy, "are a pragmatic, hateful lot, and I can't understand why Rainsfield does not keep them away from his place." Smithers firmly believed they had been created for the express purpose of causing him annoyance; and their present especial object in settling in that district was to frustrate his marriage, and rob him of his bride elect. "But he would defeat them," he said to himself, "or he'd be—;" but here his mental reservations were interrupted by Mrs. Rainsfield, who exclaimed as she entered the room: "So, sir! you dare to show yourself again in my house after the vile atrocity you have been guilty of. As to your infamy I do not wonder at it, for it is only the fructification of a nature equally depraved, brutal, and worthless. But after your insulting attack upon a guest of mine, and your cruelty to a gentle and amiable girl that you should haveventured within the precincts of this house I am truly astonished. I know you to be too great a coward to do so did you think there was any possibility of your meeting with the one who so lately gave you your deserts; and I can only attribute your presence now as a further proof of your arrogance, and to an endeavour to insult the female inmates of this dwelling."

"I don't know what you mean, Mrs. Rainsfield," replied the object of that lady's invectives; "I never offered any insult to you or any other lady in this house; so your strictures on me are quite uncalled for."

"What, sir! can you stand before me with such barefaced effrontery, and tell me such an unequivocal falsehood?" cried the lady. "Have you not insulted me by cajoling from my presence a gentleman, who is my friend and visitor, to basely assault him? and then what do you say of your dastardly behaviour to that girl who was contemplating her ownmisery and destruction by throwing herself away on such a wretch as you?"

"I decline to answer you, madam," said Smithers, "for your language is most offensive."

"Then even you are susceptible on the point of feeling," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "and yet you think I can't feel an insult. I tell you, sir, that if you had subjected me to the treatment that you did Eleanor I should have considered it an offence of the most unpardonable nature. But I love Eleanor even better than I do myself, and you may therefore expect no mercy at my hands. For your offence to myself I shall expect an expiation by your totally absenting yourself from this house; and if I have any influence over the mind of that ill-used girl (which I hope and trust I have), you may rest assured it will be exercised to your disadvantage. So, sir, without any further parley, I have to request that you instantly leave the house."

"I shall do nothing of the sort, madam,"replied Smithers, "your husband I presume is the master of this house?"

"Well, sir, I expect him here every moment," exclaimed the lady, "and if you do not obey my injunctions you shall be forcibly expelled from the premises."

"And situated as I am," continued Smithers not heeding the last threat of his irate companion, "with regard to Eleanor, I think I am entitled to see her."

"You shall not be admitted to her presence, sir," replied the lady.

"I wish to see her," said Smithers, "to explain the circumstances under which the accident occurred."

"Accident indeed!" exclaimed Mrs. Rainsfield. "It requires no explanation, sir, it speaks for itself. I have already had your brutality recounted by an eyewitness."

"By her friend I presume and one that is therefore not mine," sneered Smithers, "the sister of that villain who first poisoned Eleanor's mind towards me."

"Cease, sir! your invectives against one with whom you are not worthy to be mentioned in the same breath," cried Mrs. Rainsfield. "It was Miss Ferguson who related to me the unmanly and ruffianly manner in which you hurled Eleanor to the ground. She now lies with her life in imminent peril, and yet you have the audacity to stand before me and call it an accident which you will be able to explain."

"Yes, madam! I am confident I shall be able to satisfy Eleanor that it was not intentional on my part. I am exceedingly grieved that she should be so extremely ill, but believe me, Mrs. Rainsfield, this once, that if you will permit me to see her only for a few minutes I will be quite contented, and will certainly relieve her mind from any impression of my having wilfully harmed her."

"No, sir! it is useless your attempting to alter my determination. I tell you emphatically, that you shall not see her. She is now in a raging fever, and the sight of you at thismoment might extinguish the flickering flame of her existence. To save me from any painful necessity, I trust, sir, you will see the expediency of ceasing your importunities and at once taking your departure."

"I much regret that you will not permit me to see Eleanor," exclaimed Smithers, "because I am sure you are acting under a misapprehension of my motives and actions. If you would but permit me to explain, I—"

"It is useless, sir."

"But I am confident you must have been misinformed of the circumstances. Your informant is no friend of mine, and would have consequently given the affair a colouring detrimental to my interests."

Mrs. Rainsfield could stand no more of this colloquy, and with difficulty suppressed her rage. It had twice or thrice been just on the point of overflowing; but now it was beyond her power to restrain it. To have her young friend Kate branded as a liar by the infamous viper before her struck herdumb with indignation; and it was some moments before she regained the power of utterance, when she exclaimed:

"You mean grovelling, despicable villain! You must of necessity add to your opprobriousness by including Miss Ferguson among those whom you choose to insult, and attack her with your scurrility. Because you generate lies yourself do you think she is capable of uttering falsehoods? I will endure you no longer. Instantly leave this house, sir, do you hear me? or I'll—"

"Pray, what is the matter, my dear?" enquired Mr. Rainsfield, who entered at this moment.

"Oh, John! cause that man to leave the house, and I'll tell you," replied his wife.

"My dear Rainsfield," commenced Smithers, but was cut short by the infuriated lady, who exclaimed:

"Not a word in my presence, sir. I have already ordered you to leave the house; do you intend to obey me?" Then, turning toher husband, Mrs. Rainsfield said in a voice almost choking with passion: "John, will you not assist and support me? I have been grossly insulted by that man, who persists in defying me. Is he to continue doing so?" and she sank into a chair, and gave vent to her excited feelings in a flood of tears.

Rainsfield was not one of those unfortunates, belonging to that class of marital bipeds known as "hen-pecked husbands," though he was certainly of an uxorious disposition. It cannot therefore be supposed that he could have calmly witnessed the distress of mind his spouse evidently appeared to be in without feeling some sympathy; and she being in that state in which philosophers tell us woman soonest touches the heart of inexorable man, viz., in tears, that sympathy was heightened. Rainsfield's connubial heart was softened at the evidence of his wife's woes; he therefore turned to Smithers, and said: "Leave us together just now, Bob; I'll see you before you go."

It must be distinctly understood that though Rainsfield, as he was in duty bound, sided with his wife on this occasion, he had no desire to quarrel with Smithers, even if his wife had; far from it. It is true he had heard something of the little fracas of flogging and fainting; but that was nothing to him. If the young men chose to quarrel, he considered, let them do so! and if his cousin chose to interfere, and get hard knocks for so doing, he could not help it. If the girl had fainted it was a pity, but what influence had he over her syncope? Women always made a great deal, he thought, about those things, but generally cool down after a while and forget such little grievances. So when he communicated to Smithers his wish that he should leave the house, he did so with an expression in his look that plainly said: "Never mind, old fellow, you will lose nothing by leaving your case in my hands." The delinquent, we have no doubt, fully understood it, for he instantly obeyed the behest.Let it be said, however, to the credit of Mr. Rainsfield, that as he took this view of the case he was only aware that Eleanor had fainted and was ill; but had no idea that William Ferguson had gone off to Alma for a doctor, and that Eleanor's case was so dangerous. He therefore imagined that his wife had magnified her danger, and the heinousness of Smithers' crime; and consequently thought more lightly of the whole affair than did his partner. But he was shortly to be undeceived.

As Smithers left the room Rainsfield took a seat beside his wife and said: "Well, my dear, what is the cause of all this? you seem agitated. I have heard something of what has happened, but surely that is not sufficient cause for your angry altercation with Bob Smithers, and making yourself miserable."

"Do you not think so, John?" she replied; "first to have Eleanor nearly brought to death's door (for she is in such a raging fever that I have been compelled to get WilliamFerguson to go to Alma for a doctor), and then to be insulted and openly defied in my own house by the villain who is the cause of it all; do you not think that is sufficient to make me agitated?"

"Certainly, my dear," replied her husband, "the matter appears to me in a new light. I was not aware it was of so serious a nature; pray tell me all about it."

Mrs. Rainsfield was not long in replying to this mandate, and speedily gave her husband a detailed account of the horrors of Smithers' proceedings, permitting them in nowise to lose in her narrative any of their force and piquancy. She then wound up her recapitulation of atrocities by demanding to know if her husband could think of permitting so vile a man to darken his door again. "Understand me, John," she said, "I shall expect you to protect me against him and his insults: and that can't be done while his presence here is tolerated. If ever he enters this house I shall most assuredly consider thatyou are conniving at his insolence, and shall certainly confine myself to my own room during his stay."

We have seen that Mr. Rainsfield was mindful of his wife's wishes, but at the same time had no desire to make a breach with Smithers; consequently he found himself in a dilemma, from which he saw no extrication without giving offence to one or other of the parties. He therefore made no promise to his wife.

"You don't answer me, John," said she, "what am I to consider you think of his conduct?"

"Well, my dear," replied her husband, "I really can't tell. It is certainly reprehensible, but there is no use quarrelling with Smithers. If it is any satisfaction to you that he should not visit us I dare say he will not trouble you; but for my own part I can't see how you can expect him to forego his right to see Eleanor."

"Eleanor herself, when she recovers, if sheever does, will relieve him from that obligation," replied Mrs. Rainsfield.

"How can you say that?" said her husband. "She has expressed no intention of doing so."

"No, certainly; the poor girl is not in a state to express any determination," replied the wife; "but do you think she will suffer herself to be led to the altar by a brute like him, a man who has shown himself on more than one occasion quite unworthy of her? If she has got the spirit I think she has she will treat him with that contempt which he deserves."

"I see how it is," exclaimed Rainsfield, "you are prejudiced against Smithers."

"Prejudiced against Smithers, John?" replied his wife; "yes, I may be, but not in the sense you mean. You fancy I dislike the man because I would prefer Eleanor to accept another but you are mistaken. Hitherto I never disliked Smithers as a man, but as a suitor of Eleanor I certainly abhor him; andfor this reason that I saw her inevitable fate would be misery and wretchedness if she were ever mated to him. Now though I have more than ever cause not only to detest him for his insolence to me but to fear him for Eleanor's life."

"You are infatuated against him," replied the husband. "And for this quarrel of yours you would wish to destroy his happiness irrespective of the feelings of Eleanor herself. You say she is really ill and cannot be spoken to on the subject; then at present let the matter rest until her recovery."

"On one condition only," replied Mrs. Rainsfield, "and that is that Smithers in the interval be banished from the house. If you agree to that I am content to leave his further expatriation to her good judgment."

"So let it be," replied her husband. "I'll see Bob, and try to persuade him to let the settlement of the affair remain instatu quo."

With that the couple parted, the wife to return to the sick room, and the husband toseek Smithers. We will not trace their steps on their respective missions but merely state that Mrs. Rainsfield and Kate passed an anxious night with their invalid. At an early hour on the following morning, hearing a horseman's step passing the house, while they were anxiously expecting the doctor, Mrs. Rainsfield looked from the window of the room where she was keeping her vigils and detected the retreating outline of Bob Smithers' form as he departed for his home. Her husband she had not seen since their interview in the parlour, but as she had not since that time left Eleanor's bedside it gave her no concern; or at least she never thought of an absence of which she was not cognizant. However he had been absent all night, and while the doctor, who had arrived with William shortly after the departure of Smithers, was administering his febrifuges to poor Eleanor he was enacting the scene which we will detail to the reader.

Rainsfield had had a long conversationwith Smithers on the subject that had been communicated to him by his wife; and had, after a good deal of persuasion, induced him to agree to absent himself from Strawberry Hill until Eleanor's recovery.

Smithers, when he found his companion disposed to favour him, was the louder in his asseverations of guiltlessness; demanding an instant opportunity of explanation, and vowing vengeance against everybody concerned, and John Rainsfield in particular, for not being master in his own house. However Rainsfield, though he was inclined to forget his dignity by stooping to entreaty with him, was nevertheless firm to his purpose, and not to be intimidated by his blustering; and at last succeeded in inducing him to promise to take his departure by daylight the following morning, so as to avoid the possibility of any further unpleasantness. With that he left him to his own meditations, and walked away.

Mr. Rainsfield had not taken many stepsbeyond the out-buildings belonging to the house before he heard his own name called in a cautious manner from behind a tree; and, glancing his eye in the direction whence came the voice, he was startled to see the stalwart figure of a black, half concealed behind the trunk, beckoning him with his finger. The suddenness of the apparition for some moments unnerved him, and deprived him of the power of utterance. He, however, mastered his fears; and, as his self-control returned, he demanded to know what the black wanted with him.

"You know me, Mr. Rainsfield?" replied the black, "I'm Jemmy Davies."

"Oh, yes, I know you," replied Mr. Rainsfield, "but I thought you and the whole of your tribe had left the country."

"So we did, sir, but we've all come back again, and a great many more of the tribe too, and they are determined to kill you. Barwang and all Dugingi's friends will kill you, and I can't prevent them though I've tried; forthey are too strong for me. So I've come to give you warning."

"They intend to kill me, do they? then, by G—! they shall repent their rash resolve. But how am I to believe this?" asked Mr. Rainsfield of the black. "You! you wretch, have you got some vile scheme in your head. Think yourself fortunate that I've no gun with me or I'd shoot you on the spot."

"You wouldn't shoot me," replied Jemmy Davies; "didn't Mr. Tom tell you that I'm always a good friend to you, how I tried to stop Dugingi from stealing your rations when you killed so many of our tribe; and now I come to tell you that they want to kill you and you think me no good. But what for do you think, Mr. Rainsfield, I want to do you harm? If I want to see you die I wouldn't tell you of this; but let the black fellows kill you. If you will not believe me I can't help it; but if you like to come down to the crossing-place to-night at dark I'll meet you and show you our camp in the scrub; whenyou will see if I tell you a lie. I will stop Barwang and his friends as long as I can, but I can't prevent them altogether from coming to you; so you had better look out and be ready."

This warning sounded as an avenging declaration in the ear of Rainsfield. He had for sometime flattered himself on his security and tranquillity; and hoped, nay even believed, that he had effectually ridden himself of a hitherto incessant annoyance. But now that the surviving friends of his foes had returned, with the avowed object of seeking vengeance, he was troubled in his mind. He, however, determined to further question his informant, and, rousing himself from a reverie into which he had fallen, perceived that the black had departed. Mr. Rainsfield dragged through the remainder of the day with a heavy heart, and never more than then regretted the absence of his brother. Should he accept the black's invitation? he asked himself. It would be a satisfaction to knowin what force they were collected; but then (he thought) the messenger might mean treachery. However, he would go; he could detect it if it existed, and if it was attempted he could shoot the wretch before he had time or opportunity to betray him. Yes (he thought) he would arm himself well, and meet Jemmy Davies at the time and place he appointed.

"I'm glad you've come, Mr. Rainsfield," exclaimed the black, emerging from the obscurity of the bush, as the squatter rode down to the bank of the river some few hours after the last interview.

"Yes I've come," said Rainsfield, "and at your bidding; but see I am well armed," as he pointed to a brace of revolvers in his belt, "and, if you are attempting to play me false, the first shot I'll fire shall be through your body."

"Never fear me, Mr. Rainsfield," replied Jemmy Davies, "I'm not going to betray you. My greatest fear is not from your pistols butfrom the tomahawks of my tribe; for if they find me with you they will be sure to kill me."

"Very well," said Rainsfield, "I'll follow you, lead the way;" and the two crossed the stream in silence.

"You had better leave your horse here, sir," said the guide, "in case he should be heard by the tribe."

Rainsfield acted on this hint and dismounted; and fastening the animal to a tree, he said to the black: "Now you can go on, but remember if this is a trap for me you had better think twice before you proceed; for I shall keep my hand ready to lodge a ball in your heart the moment I perceive any treachery."

"Never be afraid, sir," replied the black, who continued to thread the scrub in silence with his companion close to his heels. When they had proceeded thus for some little time Rainsfield perceived by the appearance of lights, and the noise of the blacks' voices,that they were nearing "the camp." Jemmy Davies desired him to keep close to him, and make no noise, as they were nearer the camp than appeared through the thick scrub, and then led him a few steps further forward, when the whole tribe became plainly discernible. They then dropt on their hands and knees and crept close up to what we may call the circumvallation of the gunyahs; and the crouching white man surveyed intently the scene before him. Then would have been the time to have profited by his position if treachery had been meditated; but not a leaf stirred around them, while Rainsfield was lost in a reverie none of the most pleasant. He was, however, aroused from this by Jemmy Davies, who pointed to a group apart from the body of the tribe consisting of about fifteen men, who were all armed with their spears, nullanullas, and boomerangs, and were painted for a corroboree. One black, taller than the rest, was haranguing them at the moment, and his hearers were apparentlyacquiescing in his directions, from the yells and other marks of approbation with which they from time to time greeted his diatribe.

"That's Barwang and his friends," whispered Jemmy as he drew away his companion from the spot. "They will have a great corroboree to-morrow, and then you look out. To-morrow night they will come up to the station to watch, very likely they will be somewhere about where you saw me this morning; so if you keep some one on the look-out, and fire some shots into the bush, they will think you see them and keep away. They won't do anything to-morrow night, but watch. When they come up to kill you there will come a great many, so keep looking out."

Rainsfield and his companion returned to the crossing-place, when the former mounted his horse and passed through the river, while the latter returned to his tribe.

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