V

A few nights later, sitting in his room, with Mab astride a heavy oak chair before him, Brevis was being very annoyed.

"I think you are taking a quite unnecessary risk, Mr. Comyn. You are asking my advice about carriage of bullion to New Zealand, but I never advised you to drive through the country with a thousand pounds in gold under the seat of the gig. Why not go by Launceston?"

"Because that damned little New Zealand hooker leaves Melbourne the day before the Launceston boat is due. I must leave from Hobarton, Brevis, if I want to catch it; which I frankly don't, very much. A fortnight or more in a leaky little schooner the size of your hat don't appeal much to me."

"Nor does your journey to Hobarton appeal to me. Suppose Snow is about."

"Now … damn it," said Mab, getting up, "one would think … Look here, Brevis. I have private reasons for knowing that if it is Snow he won't touch me. Anyway, nothing has been seen of the gang for months. And, anyway, I'm going. Gamaliel thinks it all right, and so do I. Who's to know about the money? I haven't gone round the streets talking of it."

Brevis looked at him, frowning. You could never convince a Comyn; not even Jenny. And this dark, vital, ruddy giant in his great grey coat with many capes certainly looked able to protect himself. Brevis hesitated. He knew that he himself was not particularly brave, but the questing, querying hound in him could not pass what he believed would be a hot scent. Ten to one Mab had told them at Clent that he was taking gold with him.page 295Ten to one Ellen had passed the word on to Snow. Why did the fellow visit her if not for information?

"D'you mind if I come with you?" he said. "Not as protector, I don't mean. But I really must go down."

"Glad to have you, of course. Five sharp to-morrow morning. I'll do it in the day, with relays."

Dawn was grey and chill as the tandem trotted through the sleeping town; pink as the rose the Sandhills; and a great gold glory flooding from blue Ben Lomond away to the southern hills when they bowled smoothly through scattered bush where tall heath stood in a million white and crimson spears. The strange cleansing fragrance of the bush stayed with them for many miles of hills, hollows, and levels; dark, damp, and chilly sometimes, but usually all quivering with sunlight and the flying and crying of bright parrots. Then young green of wheat behind grey post-and-rails, log huts by shining creeks, hayricks, feeding sheep in yellow paddocks of native grass, a shock-headed boy bringing in red cows for the milking.

Mab never missed a drink while the ostlers changed the horses at the baiting stables, but he handled each new team with perfect skill; swinging along the Main Road that was swarming still with beggars, with farmers driving flocks of sheep, with carts of hay and wool; swinging across bridges, clattering through small townships in the twilight. But he stopped for far too many nobblers, thought Brevis, and when night came, sudden, clear, and blue, and very musical with the throaty calling of birds, he said urgently: "You don't want to stop at old Harrigan's, do you, Mr. Comyn? We'll be very late as it is."

It was a legend in the colony that Mab Comyn never passed a pub; and he was hauling on the reins now when suddenly the leader snorted and reared as a masked man stood at its head in the red light from the tavern door. There was a man each side the gig, just as quickly and silently, and with a sinking at the pit of his stomach Brevis heard the warning click of a revolver. Lord! Why had he ever come? What a fool he was! What a fool! Someone spoke in croaking tones: "Now then, Mr. Comyn, hand over that gold; and keep your horses still if you don't want a bullet through your head."

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The voice was as disguised as the men, but it was a gentleman's. Brevis strained eyes and ears … the horses plunged … he saw Mab's face, black brows over flaming eyes, big nose jutting angrily. Mab said: "Can't you see I'm trying to steady 'em? Don't fool about with them, damn you!" Brevis saw his big hairy hands working the reins, punishing the horses' mouths. He'd have them bolting in a moment…. Oh, God! why don't they shoot and get it over! Jenny … she'll never …

Thoughts whirled round in his brain for what seemed like an eternity; but it could only have been a matter of moments before three shots rattled out and the team bolted, with Mab on his high seat rocking and yelling like a madman. Then the leader went down, riddled with bullets, and Mab pitched off his seat into the road as the bush-rangers came galloping, and the wheeler of the gig kicked the dashboard to splinters, and Brevis found himself on the ground also, being battered over the head.

He returned to life in a blaze of light on the tavern floor. Old Harrigan, moving stiffly, was loosing three frightened maids and a couple of ostlers from the chairs to which they had been tied, and Mrs. Harrigan, plump in black silk, strapped Mab's arm to his side as he sat on a bench with his black hair wet over his forehead. She was coaxing him: "Now, do'ee be sensible, my dear, an' kape quiet. If you go losin' more blood, it wull be the end o' ye——"

But Mab twitched away with a muttered word and came to Brevis, now sitting up holding his head.

"Can you sit a horse?" demanded Mab. "I'm going on now. They got the gold, Brevis."

He looked the most dangerous thing Brevis had ever seen. A black destroying vengeance; a wild discredited god. He cried to Harrigan: "Is that horse saddled yet? See to it, then. Are you coming, Brevis?"

"Why didn't Snow kill you?"

"He thought he had. I got his mask off. His bullet went through my hair. Gad! and I set him free!"

He ran out, and Brevis, dragging himself to the door, heard his great voice shouting at the ostlers. Mrs. Harrigan came up, her kind face puckered.

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"He'm likely bleed to death on the road, I'm fearin'. He coom in here on hands and knees wi' his arm swingin' an' a girt runnin' o' blood from his head. We was all trussed oop. He's had two-three brandies——"

A clatter of hoofs passed on the cobbles, roared off into the night. Mab was gone, breakneck and one-armed, to rouse up Hobarton and the police. Brevis said feebly: "He's ruined, you know. All that gold …" And then he slipped down feebly in the door and did not follow Mab.