Thought, we are told by some authors, is the high and characteristic privilege of man. The truth of the axiom is not universally admitted, and even if it were so, I can only say that, like many other high and characteristic privileges, thought may become very burdensome, if its exercise is constantly enforced. I cannot help believing that the Arabian fabulist, when he represented Sinbad the sailor cast upon a desert island, and persecuted by an old man, who, once having got upon his shoulders, could never be thrown off again till he was made drunk, intended to allegorize the fate of one condemned to solitary thought, and perhaps, to point out the only means he saw of obtaining deliverance from its oppressive dominion.
Left once more alone, Dudley could not refrain from thinking over and comparing the words and actions of the two men who had been his only visitors in that solitary place, and he certainly felt none of that regret that the last of the two had left him, which he had experienced on the departure of the first. The very fact, however, of their having come at all was at first a source of some apprehension to him. He had sought out a place of refuge where he thought the foot of man had never trod, nor ever was likely to tread, at least for many long years; and now, within one week, two strangers, either of whom might betray the secret of where he sojourned, had found him, and conversed with him. How many more might be led thither, by accident or curiosity, or in the pursuit of gain, or from any of the many motives which lead man to wander and to explore? It was a question which startled him, and as I have said, he felt apprehension and regret at first; but those sensations gradually wore away, as day after day, and hour after hour gave him more and more up to the weariness of thought. To provide for the wants of the day or of the future, to complete his shelter from storm and tempest, to frame from the rock, or from the clay, or from the trunk of the cedar, or the oak, the tools and utensils of which he had need, did not afford sufficient occupation to engross his mind entirely throughout any one day. When he was fishing in the lake, when he was watching for the passing of game, when he was hewing out cisterns from the rock, or breaking with his axe the hard crust of the salt-pool, thought would still press heavily upon him, and daily it became more heavy and dark. To hear the tones of the sweet human voice, to tell the feelings, or give utterance to the fancies of his own breast, seemed each moment a privilege more to be coveted, and he felt bitterly that man is made for society, and that utter solitude is utter desolation.
A month passed after he had met with Brady without his seeing one single human being, without his ever hearing the tones of even his own voice; and the effect upon his mind may be understood when I say, that at length, before kneeling down to pray, he murmured, "I will say my prayers aloud, for fear I lose the use of speech."
But even that was not a relief; and darker and darker grew his meditations as the leaves became a little brown, and the grass assumed a yellow tinge, and the flowers gave place everywhere to the berries in the wood, and the sun rose later, and set earlier; till at length he could bear it no longer, and he said, "I will go out and seek this Norries; for I believe if I remain longer here, given up altogether to the bitter contemplation of the past and the future, my brain will turn, and I shall go mad."
With his gun upon his shoulder, then, his powder-horn, his shot-belt, and a large wallet of skin, containing his provision of biscuit, by his side, he set out early in the morning, directing his course according to the information he had received from the bushranger. The air was fresh and cool, and here and there a faint star might still be seen in the sky, "paling its ineffectual fires" at the approach of the sun. For three hours he walked on lightly and with ease; but then the heat began to have effect, and before another hour was over the sun beat fiercely on his head, so that he was glad to sit down beneath the shade of a tall, solitary tree, where the wind from the ocean, the roar of which he heard not far off, could come to refresh him. He felt how terrible it must be to cross, in the summer season, any of those wide, arid deserts which form a considerable portion of New Holland, and one of which he knew lay close to the east of the fertile tract in which he had fixed his dwelling. There, for seventy or eighty miles, extend limestone hills without grass, or tree, or water; not a herb, not a shrub, not a living thing, if it be not the lizard or the scorpion, is to be seen throughout the whole tract; and as he looked to the south-east, and saw a yellow, reddish streak extending across the distance, and resting with a hard edge upon the sky at the horizon, he thought, "I must take care not to involve myself in such a wilderness as that. To die of thirst must be a fearful death;" and instinctively he rose, and walked on towards a spot in the plain where the grass seemed somewhat greener, and the trees in more luxuriant foliage than the rest.
He found, as he expected, a little stream, somewhat shrunk, indeed, by the late heats, but still containing plenty of clear and beautiful water; and wading through some reeds upon the bank under a fringe of large trees, he was going to fill a gourd which he had dried, when suddenly a number of birds, of the duck species, rose up close to him, and putting his gun to his shoulder, he fired, and brought down two with one shot. They were beautiful birds, of a jetty black colour, and seemed fat and well-conditioned; and he laid them down on the bank, and then went in again to fill his gourd. When he came back he found a large snake, with its head raised, and its tongue darting in and out, hissing at the dead birds, as if hardly comprehending how they lay so still. The reptile did not seem to hear his approach, and he killed it easily with the stock of his gun, saying somewhat bitterly, "Slaughter, slaughter! It is all warfare, this life; defensive against the strong, offensive against the weak. It is a strange state of being!"
Almost at the same moment a loud shout met his ear, and he charged his gun again hastily, suspecting that the cry might come from some of the wild natives. He listened attentively, and shortly after heard a sound amongst the bushes farther up the stream. But he had often been told that such is the stealthy skill of the savage that, in creeping upon his face, he does not disturb the foliage more than a light wind, and here it was evident that the person who approached was taking no pains to conceal his advance, dashing through the brushwood with a hasty step, and seeming rather to court than avoid observation.
"Can it be some one in pursuit of me?" thought Dudley; but the next moment a voice shouted aloud in English, "Who was that firing?" and after pausing a moment the figure of Mr. Norries, with a gun in his hand, and two dogs following him, came forth from the bushes, and stood to gaze under one of the large detached trees. His eyes instantly fell upon Dudley, but that gentleman's appearance was so much altered that Norries did not recognise him at first, and cocking his gun, advanced cautiously, with his broad brow furrowed with a doubtful and inquiring frown. He himself was well dressed after the colonial fashion, in a large straw hat, light linen shooting-jacket, and cotton trousers; and certainly Dudley's appearance was somewhat strange and Robinson Crusoe-like; the greater part of his dress being composed of the skin of the kangaroo, and the cap upon his head, though formed of lighter materials, being of his own manufacture from the inner bark of some of the trees which he had cut down. The next instant, however, Norries seemed suddenly to recognise him, and placing his gun under his arm again, came straight across the stream to meet him.
"Ah! Mr. Dudley! I am glad I have met you," he said. "I intended to come and find you out as soon as the weather was a little cooler; for that infernal villain, Brady, told me there was an Englishman who knew me living on Mount Gambier, and I was sure it was you from his description."
"I told him to tell you," answered Dudley; "though I did not choose to give him my name, not that I believe he would betray me or any one, for there is, I think, some good in the man; and I am much obliged to him for having remembered my message."
"Betray you he certainly would not," answered Norries; "for that was not one of his vices; and he punished it bitterly enough when he found it in others. You heard what he did after he left me?"
"I have heard nothing since I saw him," answered Dudley. "But you speak as if the man were dead."
"Oh! he is hanged by this time," answered Norries. "The day after he quitted my house he stole a horse at Pringle sheep-run, and then rode straight on night and day, I believe, to take revenge upon a man as bad or worse than himself, who kept what they call a store. The fellow's name was McSweeny; and it seems he had given this man Brady up to justice. He was sitting quietly in his cabin, drinking with an old man and a lad, about nine o'clock at night, when Brady presented himself at the door. Few words passed between them, for Brady's salutation was only 'McSweeny, I want you.' He had a pistol cocked in his hand, but McSweeny walked out doggedly and asked, 'What do you want, Brady?' 'I give you five minutes to say your prayers,' replied the ruffian. 'I don't want five, nor one,' answered McSweeny. 'I'm not given to prayers; and as I've lived I'll die.' There were no more words passed, but a shot was fired; and when they ran out from the house they found McSweeny, with his brains blown out, and lying before his own door. The whole country was in arms after the murderer, and the last news I heard was that he had been caught and sent to Hobart Town, where he has been hanged ere this time, as he both desired and deserved. But let us dismiss such a person from our thoughts, Mr. Dudley. In intellectual being, as in mere animal existence, there are various classes and dignities, according as he is ranged in which, we value the individual. Who minds seeing a serpent swallow a lizard, or a chameleon suck in a gnat? The existences which perish are so small as not to be worth the counting; and this man's being was even less, for all that was not contemptible was noxious. I gave him food when he wanted it, and shelter. The utmost extent to which his gratitude carried him was not to rob me when he went away. Let us talk of other things. You will, doubtless, soon return to your own country. I never shall."
The whole of his companion's manner, tone, and language surprised Dudley not a little. There was an elevation in it, a sense of dignity which he might have concluded would have been totally extinguished by a criminal conviction; but Dudley had not read the character of Norries quite aright. There are men, and he was one of them, who, taking to their heart some great principle, religious, moral, or political, have their reward, their encouragement, and their consolation in following its dictates, and seeking by any means to attain the objects which it sets before them. They build a pyramid of thought, and its vastness sinks every other thing into vain insignificance. I have already shown the principles which Norries had adopted, and the objects that he sought; and let it not be supposed that, because sometimes he did seek those objects by means that his own heart condemned, he had any motives of personal ambition, any dreams of individual greatness in the future to gratify. With a mistake, not at all uncommon in politics as well as in religion, he fancied that the end not only justified the means, but dignified it. Nay, more; he felt proud of every sacrifice which he made for the one great principle. The sacrifice of wealth, of station, of profession, of friendship, of prejudices or opinions, of liberty, ay, of life itself, were all in his eyes honourable, if incurred in the pursuit of his grand object. To be branded as a felon, to be sent forth from his native country as a convict, ay, to work as a slave, had it been required as a consequence of his assertion of his wild notions of liberty, would have only added to his personal dignity in his own eyes, and to the dignity of the cause for which he suffered.
Dudley had never met with a political fanatic before; and though he soon learned to comprehend his companion's feelings, it at first struck him as somewhat surprising to find his manner prouder, and his tone more elevated, as a convict in a distant land, than they had appeared when free in his own country. In answer to his last words, however--words which puzzled him as much as the manner in which they were spoken, he replied, "There is no probability, Mr. Norries, of my ever returning to my own land. Perhaps you are unaware, that for an offence in which I had no share, I was condemned to transportation for life. Indignant and disgusted, indeed, by the scene to which I was transferred, the cruel tyranny on one part, and the wickedness and vice on the other, I contrived to escape, and made my way hither, concealed on board a whaler, and I must therefore request you to mention to no one that you have seen me. I find, indeed, that of all punishments one of the most terrible is solitude; and I was on my way to visit you, even for a day's relief, when I met you here. But there is no chance whatsoever of my even attempting to revisit England."
Norries smiled. "Magna est veritas, et prevalebit," he replied. "You are innocent, and you will be proved innocent. I was guilty, as far as bad laws can make men guilty who strive against oppression. I denied not the splendid crime they imputed to me, and here I stand, glorying in it. Here I will remain, too, for ever, seeing new nations rise up around me, and trying to give such a direction to their energies while yet in infancy, that in their manhood they shall root out the very name of oppression from their land, and every man be free, and virtuous in his freedom. I thought it no shame, indeed, as the patriarch Joseph by his wisdom won favour with those to whom he was sold in bondage, to render myself useful to my taskmasters, and thus to get my hand withdrawn from the bonds I could not break; but with England I have done for ever. Twice have I struggled for her freedom, twice have those who should have supported me fled at the first note of danger. I will see what a new race will do. But as you are so far on your way to my dwelling, Mr. Dudley, either come on with me, or I will go back with you. But no; it were better you should come on, for I have much to talk to you about, and something to give you. Do you not remember I promised you some papers? They are lodged in safe hands, and you shall have them yet. The two most important I have with me here."
"How did you contrive to preserve them?" asked Dudley. "Me they stripped of everything."
"There were ways and means," replied Norries.--"Sometimes in the sole of my shoe, sometimes in the lining of my coat, they were concealed, but at all events they are safe, and shall be yours. The others are left at Clive's house, and will be given to you on your return."
"Do not, do not, Mr. Norries," replied Dudley, "try to nourish hopes in me which may--nay, which must--be disappointed. All that could be done to save me from disgrace and infliction was done at my trial. Every evidence that could be brought forward was adduced in my favour, and nothing that poor Edgar Adelon could do was left undone. My counsel, too, were the first in the land, and I am bound to admit, as one educated in the study of the law, that setting aside all consideration of my character, and sentiments, of which neither judge nor jury could know much, there was sufficient to convict me."
"And yet you were innocent," answered Norries. "That should show you, Mr. Dudley, what sort of things laws are. Edgar Adelon did all that he could, indeed; and I helped him to the best of my power, though I was unable to move from the wounds I had received. But all that good kind youth's efforts were in vain, and would have been fruitless even if he had succeeded in finding the men he sought. I spoke with them afterwards, and neither of them ever saw you on that fatal night, so that they could prove nothing. All his labour served but two ends: to bring me hither; for it was through his inquiries for me that others were led to the place of my retreat; and secondly, to open his own eyes to the true character of the viper who has poisoned your existence he thinks, for ever."
"Whom do you mean?" asked Dudley, eagerly; "I know no one who failed to do anything that was possible to serve me. Sir Arthur Adelon, it is true, was absent for a strange length of time; but still, all that he did, probably all he could do, was kind and generous. Do you mean him?"
"No!" answered Norries, somewhat sternly, "I do not. He was bound in chains of fear; and in the end he would have risked something perhaps; but it was then too late. No; I mean the man who contrived the whole accusation, who gave it probability, who removed the proofs of innocence, who quietly, and calmly, and deliberately, drew toils around you from which you could not escape, and then left the dogs of the law to worry you at their pleasure."
"This is very strange!" exclaimed Dudley; "I have had no suspicion of such practices. Do you mean to say I have been made the victim of a conspiracy?"
"No," replied Norries, "for a conspiracy implies many acting for an end of which they are conscious. Here there was but one, guiding others who were unconscious of the end for which he strove. Sir Arthur Adelon, himself, was but one of the tools."
"Can you mean Filmer?" asked Dudley.
"Ay, even so," answered Norries; "but come on to my house, and I will tell you all about it; for not being taken till the assizes were over, I was long in prison, and there I learned many facts which, skilfully put together, developed the whole scheme."
"Had we not better rest here till the heat of the day is passed?" asked Dudley. "We have fresh water here; and I have a few biscuits. We can get fish out of the river, too, and broil them speedily."
Norries smiled. "How soon," he said, "man habituates himself to circumstances. What would you have said to such fare two years ago, Mr. Dudley? Hard biscuit, coarse bream, and cold water! But I can treat you better, and can show you a road which, sheltered by tall trees, never feels the sun except for about half a mile, and which, open to the sea, catches every breeze that blows. There is a little lake, too, on the way, and I have got a canoe upon the lake, in which we can skim easily across, saving many miles of toil. Let us bring these birds with us; they will add to our evening meal, for their flesh is as good as their plumage is beautiful;" and taking up the ducks by the feet, he walked on up the stream, with Dudley following, buried in meditation upon all he had lately heard.
There was a ball at the Government House at Hobart Town, and although, perhaps, had any one possessed the wishing carpet of the eastern prince, and sailed, in the twinkling of an eye, from Paris or St. James's, to the shores of Van Dieman's Land, they might have seen in the assembly dresses which were at least twelve months behind the fashion, and hair dressed after an exploded mode, yet it was, nevertheless, a very gay and interesting sight, and people seemed to be enjoying themselves as much as if the saloons had been those of a king's palace, and everybody present had been lords and ladies. A great deal of taste had been shown in the decorations; the company comprised the elite of the inhabitants; and although, as is usual in a colony--I might almost say invariable--the government officers and the government officers' wives, were not without envy, hatred, malice, and all uncharitableness towards each other, yet the carping and censorious spirit which would have full indulgence a few hours after, was restrained for the time, and nothing could be more civil and courteous than Mrs. So-and-so was to Mrs. So-and-so, or the Attorney General to the Colonial Treasurer.
There was a great number of young and very pretty women present, looking like the fairest blossoms amongst the wilderness of flowering shrubs with which the rooms were decorated; but it might be observed that many of the youngest and the prettiest turned their eyes from time to time to one spot in the room more frequently than they did to any other. That spot, it is true, was not very far distant from the position assumed by the Governor himself; but yet it is probable it was not at the Governor they were looking, for he was a grave, elderly gentleman, of no great attractions, and about two yards from him there stood a young gentleman of much more captivating appearance. He seemed to be hardly one-and-twenty years of age, slight in form, but very handsome in features, with the light hair waving in beautiful glossy curls round his brow, and a good deal of whisker also strongly curled upon his cheeks. He was dressed in the height of the English fashion at the time; and certainly no person on all the earth, not even a Parisian lady, is dressed so well, and with such good taste, as a high-bred English gentleman. The plain black coat fitting to perfection, but light and perfectly easy, the snowy white waistcoat, the shirt, of extraordinary fineness, as pure as driven snow, the plain wristband turned back over the cuff, the beautifully-made gloves and boots, and withal that air of ease and grace which, if not a part of the dress, except metaphorically, gives value to the whole, at once distinguished that young man from all the rest, and pointed him out as one of the marked in the capital of nations. There was also something in the expression of his countenance, as well as in his general air, which was calculated to attract attention. There was a quick, bright, remarking glance of his eye, as it fixed upon the door by which visitors entered, that might speak a keen and intelligent spirit, if not some eager and anxious object at the moment; and the slight bend between the eye-brows on the fair broad brow, as well as the firm setting together of the teeth and beautifully chiselled lips, seemed to imply to the one or two physiognomists in the room, a character of rapid decision and determined perseverance. Had it not been for that expression, with features so fine, and a skin so fair and delicate, the face would have been almost too feminine.
To this young stranger--for he was quite new to the colony--the Governor from time to time introduced some of the most distinguished of his guests; and he spoke to them gravely, but courteously, with a sort of flashing and fanciful wit, which seemed so natural and easy to him as not even to produce a smile on his own lip, at that which called a laugh from others. In fact, it was but the expression of the thoughts which whatever was said to him aroused, done without effort and without object.
At length another gentleman entered the room, dressed much in the same style as himself, and bearing with him the same air of gentlemanly ease. He advanced straight to the Governor, shook hands with him as an old friend, and was then turning away--for it seemed, from some after conversation, that they had had a long conference in the morning; but the representative of the crown stopped the new comer, saying, "Captain M----, I must introduce you to a young friend who arrived in the Cambria yesterday. He is travelling for pleasure and information, he tells me; and though the amount to be derived here is, I believe, not very great, and this is somewhat a strange place to seek it in, yet I am anxious that any we can afford should be given to him, and I know none so able to give it as yourself. Mr. Adelon, allow me to introduce my friend Captain M----, whose objects in visiting this and the neighbouring colonies are somewhat like to your own, only he has the advantage of having been some months before you."
Edgar Adelon held out his hand to his new acquaintance, saying, "I have had the pleasure of hearing much of you, Captain M----. Some of the gentlemen whom we took up at the Cape, and especially the surgeon, were well acquainted with your labours of benevolence. I trust you will grant me the pleasure of your acquaintance."
Captain M---- had been gazing at him with a look of much interest, but perhaps a little too attentively to be quite courteous. He replied, however, "Anything I can do to serve or to assist you I shall be most happy to perform. I have heard of your family, I imagine. You are Mr. Adelon, of Brandon, I believe?"
"My father has lived at Brandon for some years," replied Edgar; "but it belongs to my cousin, to whom he is guardian. Our own place is Overbridge, in Yorkshire."
"Is your father at Brandon now?" inquired Captain M----.
"No," replied Edgar; "he is a great way off. My cousin's health required change of air, and he has been wandering with her far and wide. The last letter I had from them was dated Jerusalem."
"Then I suppose you did not accompany them?" said the Governor; "yet I should have thought, Mr. Adelon, much more, both of pleasure and information, might have been derived from such a tour as that which they took, than from a long, dull voyage to Van Dieman's Land."
"Some people prefer soda-water, some champagne," answered Edgar, with a smile. "Business, to me of deep interest, kept me in England, at the period of their departure; some accidental circumstances pointed my inclination this way; and in three days after I had formed my resolution I was upon the water. The voyage was dull enough, I will admit; but I hope, sir, that I have now cracked the nut and come to the kernel."
"I think that your father's name is Edgar," said Captain M----, returning to his questions, not without an object: "Mr. Edgar Adelon, if I mistake not?"
"No," replied the young gentleman, "that is my misfortune and his fault. His name is Sir Arthur Adelon, but he had me christened Edgar, I am sorry to say."
"I do not see why you should be sorry," rejoined the Governor; "it is a good and well-sounding name enough."
"There are some people, my dear Sir George," answered Edgar, "who are deeply read in history, and who naturally confound me with Edgar Atheling, giving me an historical value which I do not yet possess. It is true the worthy gentleman they take me for has been dead hard upon a thousand years; but people's wits now move by railroad as well as their bodies, and they have not time to stop for such trifles as that. A thousand years are nothing to them; and a lady the other day entered with me at large into that part of my family history; evidently thinking that if I was not actually the man himself, he must at least have been my uncle. I very humbly begged pardon for correcting her, but assured her that the relationship was not so close as she thought. She said it was all the same so there was a relationship, and upon that score I referred her to my father, who believes it, though I do not."
At that moment there came another call upon the Governor's attention, and Captain M---- and Edgar were left standing alone together. "I am afraid, Mr. Adelon," said the former; "you have thought my questions very impertinent, but I had a motive."
"All men have, I believe," answered Edgar; "and it is as likely, Captain M----, that you have thought my answers impertinent likewise. But I, too, had a motive, which, perhaps, when we know each other better, I may trouble you with. I have been somewhat vexed, too, and disappointed since I came here, and do not altogether wish the Governor, though an excellent man, I believe, to see into my feelings or my views."
"Disappointed already!" said Captain M----; "that is very soon."
"True," answered Edgar; "but still it is so. Disappointed, not baffled; for my motive in coming was too strong to suffer me easily to give up the pursuit of my object. You see I am frank with you."
"And I will be frank with you, Mr. Adelon," said Captain M----, in a low voice. "The fact is, I have a letter for you, and I wished to be certain that you were the person to whom it is addressed."
"For me!" exclaimed Edgar, eagerly. "Who is it from?"
"I must give you a strange answer," replied Captain M----. "It is from the Nameless Fisherman by the Nameless Lake."
"That is no information," replied Edgar. "Have you got it here? Could we not go into another room?"
"I have it here in Hobart Town," replied Captain M----; "but I certainly did not bring it to the Government House with me. You must have a little patience, my dear sir. I will bring the letter to you to-morrow; and to tell you the truth, having found you so unexpectedly, I must take a little time to consider of my own conduct, for there are circumstances connected with that letter which it may be difficult to deal with."
"Of course, if the letter is addressed to me, it must be given to me," replied Edgar, almost sharply.
"Undoubtedly," answered Captain M----; "but, perhaps, I may not feel myself justified in affording you any farther information than the letter itself contains."
"I dare say that will be sufficient," answered Edgar, with a better satisfied air; "but at all events, Captain M----, I think, if that letter be what I suspect, I can show you reasons for giving me every information in your power, sufficient to satisfy fully a man of your character."
"We shall see," answered Captain M----; "and in the mean time, as I have said, I will think over the circumstances. At what hour shall I call upon you tomorrow?"
"At any hour you like," answered Edgar. "The sooner the better, indeed. Will you say six in the morning?"
"Rather early," replied Captain M----; "but so be it. They are going to begin dancing, I see. Is that one of your amusements?"
"Not to-night," answered Edgar; and then after a pause, he added, in a low, meditative tone, "The Nameless Fisherman of the Nameless Lake! Was he a tall, exceedingly handsome man; a gentleman in every word, and look, and movement, with the most scrupulous taste in his dress?"
He was interrupted by a smile, faint and almost sad, which came upon Captain M----'s lip. "He is certainly tall," replied the young officer, "and evidently highly educated. Doubtless he has been very handsome, too, but when I saw him, he was exceedingly emaciated, pale and hollow-eyed; and as for his dress, it was not as neat and precise as you mention. It was partly the dress of a convict, partly that of a savage, and his beard was of a month's growth at least."
"I had forgotten," said Edgar, vehemently, putting his hand before his eyes; "I had forgotten how he has been trampled on, and injured, and oppressed; and what changes such injury and oppression may work, even in the innocent, the generous, and the noble."
The suddenness of his gesture, and the warmth with which he spoke, called several eyes upon him; and the next instant he turned sharply away, and entered a lesser room on the Governor's left. Captain M---- followed him, beginning to understand and appreciate his character. As but few people had yet arrived, the room was vacant, and sitting down at a card-table together, they entered into a long and earnest conversation, carried on in low tones, for nearly an hour; and then, some other persons entering, they returned to the ball-room with faces apparently more cheerful than when they had left it.
The least perceptible gleam of gray light was shining in the eastern sky; the stars were twinkling clear and large, with hardly diminished brightness, when, from the door of a house, in the midst of wild woods and beautiful savannas, came forth two men, and took their way across a patch of half-cultivated land before the door. The dwelling itself was an odd-looking construction, but not altogether unpleasant to the eye. The principal building was a long range on the ground floor, constructed of masses of very white stone, neatly hewn and joined together, while above, what seemed a single room, with two windows unglazed, towered above the rest, with a flat roof. All the way along the front ran a little balcony, supported by rough trunks of trees, and decorated with the wild vine; while, along the edges of the walks, which had been carefully laid out through the cultivated patch I have spoken of, were little trellises of lath and twig, partially covered with an immense variety of climbing plants. The whole had an air of comfort, and neatness, and security, as it were, which spread, like an emanation of the social spirit, into the scene around, and took from it that appearance of desolation which Dudley felt so much in his own wilder, though more beautiful, habitation.
For about five miles Norries walked on by the side of his guest of the preceding night; and then they came to the edge of a low melancholy lake, in the midst of the thickest part of the scrub, as the low woods are called, in which the dark blue hues of a heavy dawning sky were reflected, varied with lines of light, as the rising sun caught upon the edges of the dull clouds. Three large snowy white birds were hovering over the surface of the gloomy waters; and through a break in the woods beyond, a dull orange hue marked the horizon where the day was appearing.
The canoe was found where they had left it on the preceding evening; and as they got into the frail bark, Norries remarked, "It will save you fifteen miles of heavy march, for the tarn is very narrow here; but on foot you would have to take the whole way round, which makes the distance well nigh sixty miles, to the foot of Mount Gambier from my house, I have never been there myself, but so the scoundrel Brady told me."
"Not so far, I think," replied Dudley; "but I trust, Mr. Norries, you will come up to my lonely dwelling ere long; for sad and desolate as a residence there was before, it will be even more so now. My own fate was a dark shadow, but I still had confidence in human nature. I thought it capable of crimes, undoubtedly, committed under strong temptation or sudden passions; but the black page in man's character which you have opened to me, has made me feel sadder than ever. It is another confidence gone, Mr. Norries, and that is always painful."
"We grow grave as we grow old," answered Norries, paddling his canoe with no mean skill, "because we lose the delusions which fill youth with smiles; but do we not grow wiser too, sir? Nevertheless, do not let the discovery of some things in the world, which you did not know, induce you to judge too harshly because you had before judged too leniently. It is in the just appreciation of men and things that lies the wisdom which gives no merriment but much tranquillity. I have learned some hard lessons lately, Mr. Dudley as well as yourself; but they have not made me misanthropical. I have found that there are worse men in the world, feebler men in the world--deeper crime, and deeper folly, than I thought; but at the same time, I have found devotion more high and pure, honesty more incorruptible, and wisdom in simplicity, more beautiful than even my enthusiasm had ever figured. It is as wrong to undervalue as to overvalue men, to hope too little from them as to expect too much; but, for you, brighter days undoubtedly will come, and with them hopes and enthusiasms, which revive, like flowers refreshed by dew, as soon as the sun of success arises. I am too old for such things, but I hope I have found peace."
"I trust that it may be so in your case," replied Dudley, "but I will indulge no hopes in my own. They have branded me with the name of felon; can they ever wipe out that stain? They have severed ties which can hardly be knit again. Even now, I know not the extent of the evil; and from my experience of life, I am inclined to believe that human hope, even in despair, so much outstrips probability, that when ills of any kind are to be suffered and endured, they are sure to be much greater than foresight reckoned upon."
"It is a heavy view of life, indeed," answered Norries; "but yet I hope you will find yourself mistaken. No one can tell, however; and as I have been deluded myself by others, I will take no share in deluding."
At this point the conversation dropped for the time, and was not resumed again till they were nearing that shore of the lake which was next to Mount Gambier. There Norries left his guest upon the bank, adding a few more cautions and instructions in regard to the productions, climate, and inhabitants of New Holland; and wishing him heartily good bye, turned his canoe, and rowed, or paddled, towards the other side of the lake.
Dudley walked on, with his gun under his arm, while the glorious light of the rising sun spread broad over the whole scene. The morning air was fresh, and he felt invigorated by repose and society; but still his mind was sadly depressed, and his eyes were more frequently bent upon the ground than raised to the woody scene around him, or to the glorious sky above. At length, however, about four hours before noon, he paused for a moment in the midst of a wide savannah, surrounded on every side by magnificent trees, to gaze at the park-like appearance of the landscape, which had reminded him strongly, as had been the case with Brady, of some of the most beautiful parts of his native land. The memories that it called up were sweet, but a well of bitterness sprang up in the past, turning the whole cup of life to gall.
As he looked around, with a slow and contemplative gaze, he fancied he saw a dim, shadowy figure creeping quietly along amidst the tall bolls of the trees on the edge of the wide meadow. If his eyes did not deceive him, it was the form of a tall man, stealing through the second or third row of cedars, which were there very thick; but though he watched intently, he could not catch another glance of it, and he could only guess that it was one of the natives, who, on seeing a white man, had plunged into the deeper parts of the scrub, or had hidden himself behind some tree or bush. He knew that the aborigines were fierce and cunning, especially the Milmendura, who were said to frequent that neighbourhood; but he was well armed, and did not feel much apprehension, for he had heard that the greater part of the tribe were down at the Coorong, a great salt inlet of the sea, many miles distant, or at the lakes in the same neighbourhood. With one or two, he thought, if he should meet them, he could cope easily, at least on open ground; and he consequently walked on without any appearance of suspicion, though he kept his eyes upon the scrub, as if looking for game. The cedars were succeeded by a large patch of tall stringy bark trees, having no brushwood beneath them, and there he twice more caught a sight of the dim figure, flitting along, almost step by step, as he advanced, and then sheltering itself behind one of the large trunks. He had now no doubt that it was that of a man watching him, which certainly was not altogether pleasant, especially as the dark colour of the native's skin so much resembled, in the shade, the objects amongst which he was moving, that it was with very great difficulty he was distinguished at all.
When Dudley arrived at the spot where the savannah ended, he chose a passage through a more open part of the belt of woodland which separated it from a still larger extent of grazing ground, and kept a keen watch upon his right, that he might not be attacked unprepared. He saw nothing, and heard nothing, however, for five or six hundred yards, till he was just issuing forth again into the meadows beyond, and had his eye upon the top of Mount Gambier, seen over the wavy outline of the scrub; but then a cry was heard, more like the sudden yelp of a dog when hurt, than any sound produced by a human throat, and something came whizzing through the trees towards him. The natural impulse was to jump aside at once; but before he could do it, a long and apparently heavy spear descended within two yards of him, burying its sharp point deep in the ground, and quivering as it stood nearly erect, like a young tree newly planted.
Dudley instantly cocked both barrels of his gun, and looked towards the spot whence the missile came. But nothing was to be seen but the trunks of the trees, with here and there a little patch of underwood. No moving thing was within sight, but the branches gently agitated by the fresh morning air. Pulling the spear out of the ground, the wanderer carried it away with him as well as his gun, and walking quickly on, got as fast as possible into the open ground again, which now lay before him, unbroken for an extent of nearly three miles. A wood of tall trees was prolonged upon his right; and on his left was a piece of uneven bushy land, between the meadow and a sterile tract stretching to the sea-shore; but between the two covers, the space of open meadow ground, with nothing but a solitary tree starting up here and there, varied in breadth from a mile to a mile and a half, so that, by keeping a middle course, he was out of reach of spear or arrow sent from beneath the trees. He walked on, then, quietly looking around him, indeed, from time to time, but displaying no sign of fear or haste; and more than once he thought he caught sight of a native in the wood, who did not venture to come out into the open meadow.
By the time he had walked to within five or six hundred yards of the end of the savannah, the sun had gained great power, and the length of the shadows had diminished considerably. Before him lay some miles of country, neither exactly wood nor exactly pasture, but undulating, and broken with a number of scattered trees, and large clumps of mimosas and cedars, together with thickets of various kinds of shrubs, and juniper bushes, rising to an unusual height. That there was one enemy at least near, Dudley had already proof sufficient; and the tract through which he had to pass before he could reach his mountain dwelling-place was undoubtedly well fitted for the attack of a subtle assailant. There were a thousand places, as he well knew--for he was now entering a country which he had frequently explored--whence a concealed enemy might hurl one of the tremendous spears of the country, without exposing himself, even in the least degree. After short consideration, Dudley resolved to seek a resting-place at a little rising knoll in the savannah, shaded by two or three mimosas, and at the distance of fully three hundred yards from the wood, hoping that, if the savage who had been watching him were alone, he would get tired of waiting for an opportunity, and leave him to pursue his journey without farther molestation. He seated himself, then, laying down his gun and the spear beside him, but not removing the axe from his belt, as it was there readier to his hand; and, taking some provisions from his wallet, he began his frugal meal, still keeping a wary eye upon the country round. He had just finished the portion of food which he allowed himself, and had drunk half the water contained in his gourd, when he thought he perceived a curious undulatory movement in the long dry grass at no great distance. The wind had fallen away, so that it could not be produced by that cause; and he felt sure that a snake, let its size be what it might, would have crept on its way without such evident signs of its progress. Turning his eye a little to the left, he saw the long grass agitated in a similar manner; and starting up at once, he cocked his gun again, and pointed it at one of the spots where the motion was apparent. The act of rising gave him a better view; and he now distinctly saw several dark objects moving towards him, whenever the grass was thrown aside a little as they advanced. He hesitated an instant, unwilling to sacrifice human life; but knowing that his own must depend upon decision--for both the spear which had been hurled at him, and the insidious method of approach now adopted, showed that, if they were men who were creeping up, they must be enemies--he took his resolution, and, aiming well, fired at the object which had first caught his eye.
In an instant, with a wild yell, rose up six or seven tall and frightful savages, with long curly hair, bedaubed with grease and ochre. One, the moment he had reached his feet, fell back again amidst the grass; but the others, poising their spears lightly for an instant, discharged them all at once at Dudley with an aim fearfully accurate. The exceedingly brief pause they had made, however, to direct their missiles, gave him time enough to jump behind the nearest mimosa. Three spears passed on one side, one on the other, and two struck the tree, and tore off a large portion of the bark. The wanderer had but short time for consideration; for after having cast their spears, the savages rushed on with clubs, and other weapons of their own construction, shouting and screaming wildly. Snatching up the spear, of which he had possessed himself, Dudley set his back against the tree, aiming the second barrel of his gun at a tall, powerful man, who was the foremost, and seemed to be the commander of the party. His situation was desperate, indeed, but he determined to sell his life dearly. His gun made him certain of one of the enemy; and he calculated that, what between the spear he held and his hatchet, he might bring down two more; but three still uninjured would remain, even when this was accomplished; and, unable to throw the javelin with their force and precision, as soon as his gun was discharged, each savage had an advantage over him, which must in the end overpower resistance. The leader of the natives, however, seeing the barrel of the fowling-piece directed towards himself, and probably fully aware of its fatal effects, both from what he had seen that day, and previous knowledge, halted suddenly, and then spoke a few words to his companions in their own tongue. The effect was instantaneous; the men separated at once, and running round the clump of trees, with the second spear which each carried, poised in their hands, prepared once more to attack from a distance, and from every quarter, so that some one weapon was sure to take effect.
Seeing that he must die, Dudley, still aiming at the chief, was dropping his finger on the trigger, when, to his surprise, the man fell back upon the ground with a loud shriek; and Dudley might have been tempted to imagine that it was a feint to prevent him from firing, had he not at the same instant heard the sharp report of a gun, succeeded instantly by another, while, at the same moment, a second of the savages sprang high up into the air, dropping his lance with a fearful yell. A loud cheer from the side of the low bushes followed instantly; and the assailants, finding themselves assailed by arms and numbers superior to their own, fled as fast as they could go, one of them throwing his spear in haste at Dudley before he went, but only grazing his shoulder slightly, in consequence of a hurried and ill-directed aim.
Thanking God for his preservation, Dudley turned towards the spot from whence the cheer he had heard proceeded, and beheld a party of five or six men advancing from the scrub. One was on foot, but all the rest were mounted; and Dudley, to his surprise, recognised in the pedestrian the vigorous form of Norries, whom he had thought full twenty miles away. The young wanderer advanced at once from under the mimosas to meet his deliverers; but as he came nearer, the aspect of one of the horsemen seemed familiar to his sight. Associations sweet and happy rose up, which he had not suffered to visit him for years. Hopes undefined and vague, but bright and glorious, swam before his eyes, and with a beating heart and giddy brain, Dudley stopped unable to take another step in advance.