Outlaw and Lawmaker/Chapter 8
CHAPTER VIII.
THE MEMBER FOR LUYA.
It was early morning before Elsie fell asleep. She slept late. Ina knocked at her door, and found it bolted and went away again. Later, when Elsie was dressed and went into the sitting-room, she found the whole party assembled there. Lord Horace was talking excitedly. "Eight thousand pounds worth of gold. By jove, it's a haul!" he was saying.
Eight thousand pounds! The words brought a thrill to Elsie. "What are you talking about?" she exclaimed. "What does it mean?"
"It means the most daring robbery that ever was committed. The gold escort robbed eight miles from Goondi at three o'clock this morning—six armed policemen to five bushrangers," said Hallett.
"And the devil, as they say, in the shape of a black horse," put in Lord Horace. "I should like to have the chance of a shot at Abatos. What fools they were not to aim at the horse. 'Pon my soul, it's the most extror'nary thing. Etheridge, the sergeant, swears the men are all in armour."
"Copying the Kellys," said Lady Horace.
"Copying the mediaeval duffers rather. It's a better sort of armour than the Kellys. That must be chain armour of the best manufacture, or they couldn't ride the distances in the time and do the things they do—unless Moonlight has the power of disappearing into the bowels of the earth whenever he sees fit. It beats me, and I can't help having a sneaking regard for such a plucky fellow. I hope Macpherson won't nab him." Lord Horace went on walking fiercely up and down the inn parlour.
Elsie sat silent. She, too, was intensely excited.
"The worst of it is that no one cares two straws about the poling to-day," said Hallett. "All Goondi is mad over the robbery. I am afraid it will affect the votes."
"No, it won't," said Lord Horace. "I shall drag the voters in—your voters at least."
Elsie ate her breakfast listlessly. Hallett looked at her with anxious eyes.
"You look as if you hadn't slept. And you don't seem so tremendously interested in Moonlight as I thought you would be."
"Yes," she answered, "I am—tremendously interested. Was anybody hurt?"
"Moonlight has never yet shed blood," said Hallett; "and as for the bushrangers, Etheridge says that the bullets glanced off them. He let the police fire. They weren't prepared, and before they had time to reload, Moonlight and his men had closed in on them, and the whole thing was up. They were found gagged and tied to gum-trees by a selector who started early this morning to vote. The gold had gone, and there wasn't a trace of the bushrangers to be seen."
Outside the hotel the mob had become uproarious.
"It's Blake holding forth. You'll hear 'The Wearing of the Green' presently. Come along, Horace. Let us see what they are up to," said Hallett. He was very pale. Elsie went out with Ina into the balcony. It was the same voice that she had listened to the evening before.
"Yes—it's Blake haranguing his wild Irishmen," Hallett said.
Elsie could hear the voice, but she could not see the man. She could tell by the murmurs of the crowd that it was a large crowd and deeply interested. The sensation was curious and intense. The hush was something almost painful during each sentence of the speaker, and then the wild shriek of applause seemed as if it broke irrepressible out of the very heart of the listeners.
"Blake won't let his fellows forget all about the election, even in the excitement about Moonlight and the robbery," Hallett quietly observed. "He's a better tactician than we are." This was the very thought that had been passing through Elsie's somewhat distracted mind.
She could hardly follow the course of the appeal that Blake was making to his admirers. It was something about the future of Ireland and the future, too, of Australia. But she did not want to follow the political appeal. She was content to hear the voice—melodious, strong, thrilling, sweet—with sudden spontaneous notes of humour in it, which brought out roars of laughter from the delighted listeners.
Hallett's turn came to address his electors, and Elsie was near, and could follow his words, but they thrilled her to no enthusiasm. She could not understand why Ina was white and cold with anxiety. What did it matter? What did anything matter? It was the other voice that rang in Elsie's ears. But how could she, in loyalty, hope that Blake might be victorious? Lady Horace made no attempt to do her shopping that day, and the colonial oven was not bought—on this occasion at any rate. The excitement in Goondi was far too intense for it to be safe for ladies to venture into the business street, the mob too dense and turbulent. Interest was divided between the result of the poll and the bushranging outrage. There was almost a suspension of all other business. Police patrolled the street. The township authorities were waiting for Government orders. Courthouse and telegraph station were surrounded by a swaying crowd waiting the arrival of "progress telegrams." Captain Macpherson, the superintendent of police, had started out with all the available force. Native trackers were got together, and further bands were being summoned from the neighbouring township. At evening, however, nothing had been heard of Moonlight. He might, as Lord Horace had said, have disappeared into the bowels of the earth, for all the trace he had left.
Mr. Blake and his supporters were very much in evidence that day. Elsie saw him in the distance, cool, calm, apparently self-confident. She saw him riding down the street of the township on a horse which was not Osman, but which was, nevertheless, a very splendid animal—a mettlesome chestnut, which apparently he had ridden all through the election, for she heard Hallett and Lord Horace discussing it and extolling the Baròlin breed. She looked at the horse to see if it showed any traces of a wild ride, but it was as fresh, and spirited, and sleek as though it had not left the stable for days. Elsie wondered whether he had really taken that gallop, and if so whether it had, as he had said, worked off the excitement. He certainly seemed now absolutely collected, but perhaps his composure was a sign of excitement at white heat. She observed that during the early part of the day Trant was not with his partner, and that when he did show himself he seemed by far the most wearied and discomposed of the two.
Elsie watched the fortunes of the day from her balcony. She saw Hallett go into the court-house up the street, and then Blake came up to the court-house door and got off his horse and went in too, accompanied by a few friends, and she assumed that the counting of the votes was going on. She went in and out uneasily from and back to the balcony. Some hours after she saw a rush made towards the courthouse by an excited crowd. Presently she heard a wild outcry, at first she hardly knew whether of grief or joy, and then broke out the song of a God save Ireland," mingled with hurrahs for Blake, and a crowd rushed up waving banners and sticks some with green ribbons tied to them, and she knew that the victory was won. The crowd halted under the hotel outside, and Elsie assumed that Blake was there, and that he would have to make another speech. So he did. His voice rang out with all the proud vigour of victory—and she heard him tell of the regeneration of Ireland, and the manifest destiny of Australia.
Lord Horace had worked manfully. It certainly was not his fault that Frank Hallett was not elected. But when the poll was declared, just before the crowd returned to the hotel, it was known that Blake had come in the victor by a majority of twenty votes.
Again Elsie and Blake met in the corridor. She was coming from her room, he was going towards his. She went straight to him and held out her hand.
"I congratulate you," she said simply.
"Thank you," he answered, and held her hand for several moments before she withdrew it. "But," she added, "I am very sorry for Mr. Hallett."
"He has behaved splendidly," said Blake. "He is a fine fellow. We shall not bear each other any animosity. He fights fair, and when the fight is over he shakes hands. We have shaken hands, and have agreed to bury personal differences. Political differences, I am afraid, we shall never bury."
"Tell me," she said, abruptly. "What did you do last night?"
"It does not matter, Miss Valliant, since I did not disturb you again. I took care not to do that."
"No, you did not disturb me," she answered. "But I did not go to sleep till nearly daybreak, and Mr. Trant must have come in after that."
"Yes, he came in after that."
"Your horse did not look as though you had ridden very far last night."
"I accomplished my purpose," he said; "I worked off my excitement."
"And you did not meet Moonlight?"
He laughed. "So Moonlight was abroad last night?"
"Strange, wasn't it?"
"Captain Macpherson has not caught him yet?"
"Have you heard?" she asked.
"He has not caught him yet. I don't think he is likely to catch him."
"Now that you are member for Luya, Mr. Blake," Elsie went on, "you will have to do something to preserve the peace of the district."
"What should you like me to do?" he said. "Ask a question in the House and twit the Government with the fact that all the police of the district are held at bay by an undiscoverable outlaw?"
"No, I don't want you to deprive us of our chief excitement, not that it will matter much to me, for I am soon going back to Leichardt's Town, and frankly I am full of sympathy for Moonlight. Do you know that one of the troopers says that he speaks a strange language?"
Blake laughed. " I understand that he was heard to give an order to fire in French, and Captain Macpherson has started the theory that he is an escaped convict from New Caledonia."
Lady Horace came out of her room just then, and advanced to her sister and Blake. Her eyes had a frightened look. "Elsie," she said, "I should like to know Mr. Blake." She held out her hand with her charming smile. "I cannot say that I am glad you have got in, but I am glad, at any rate, that the fight is over."
"And the hatchet is buried, Lady Horace," said Blake, acknowledging her salutation with a very courtly bow. "I suppose you know that the rival candidates and their supporters dine together to-night, and that we shall all make pretty speeches about each other and be good friends henceforth?"
They said a few more words, and then Blake left them. The two sisters went back to the sitting-room. "Elsie," Ina said on the way thither, "don't begin to flirt with that man."
"Why not, dear?" asked Elsie.
"Because he will make you do what he likes," said Ina, "I see it in his eyes." The light of a gas jet fell on her agitated face and blurred lashes.
"Ina, you have been crying," exclaimed Elsie. "What is the matter? Has Horace been doing anything to vex you?"
"No—I" Ina stammered. "I am very happy, Elsie, I'm only sorry for Mr. Hallett; and you don't care. You are wishing joy to the man who has supplanted him. You have nothing kind to say to Frank, who loves you. He is in there waiting, and hoping to see you. Oh, go to him, Elsie, and say that you are sorry."
Ina pushed Elsie in and ran back to her room.
Frank Hallett was there alone. He was standing by the mantelpiece, and looked grim and sad. It struck her for the first time almost that he, too, looked a man of power. He lifted his head as she entered and smiled.
"You see you were right. I am beaten—but only for the Luya. I shall have another chance directly."
"What do you mean?—Oh, Frank, I am sorry."
"Thank you, Elsie." He took her hand in his and held it. "Thank you, dear. That makes up for other things. It is an odd chance, isn't it, that on the very day of my being beaten for the Luya, the Wallaroo vacancy should be declared?"
"Wallaroo! I hadn't heard."
"Lady Horace knew—it is all over the place. Fletcher has resigned."
"Yes, yes, I remember, but I did not connect the two things," Elsie stammered. "There has been so much to think of—Moonlight and this. You will get in here."
"And I have another electioneering campaign before me. It will not be a long one, however, and I don't start till after the Tunimba festivities."
"You see," he added with a rather bitter little laugh, "it is as we thought. The trophies of victory have been turned into the symbols of defeat. We shall be celebrating the triumph of my opponent. Blake's first appearance among us will be as the member for Luya."
"Oh!—Frank"
"Are you sorry, Elsie? Be truthful."
"Sorry—for your defeat? Of course I am sorry."
"But for his victory Are you sorry for that?"
"I don't think you have any right to question me in this way," she said, proudly.
"No, no, I have no right. But I watched your face this morning, and I watched it last evening, when you were listening to him speaking. I saw that you were straining to catch the words. And somehow, Elsie, you don't seem like yourself to-day. You look as though your thoughts were far from Goondi, and from the election and from everything that concerns us here."
"No, Frank, but I am tired. I—I" There was almost a sob in her voice. "You are quite right. I am not myself. I don't know what is the matter with me. I did not sleep very well last night."
"You did not sleep! I Did anyone—were you frightened at the noises in the hotel?"
"No." She hesitated.
"But there were noises," he said. "I heard the tramping of horses' feet in the yard. I wondered who could have come so late."
"It was nothing," she said, hurriedly. "No, I was not disturbed. Don't think anything more about my looks, Frank, or about things. It doesn't matter after all, since you are sure to be member for Wallaroo."
At that moment Lord Horace's voice sounded in the passage. He ushered in the victorious Blake, pausing as he did so to give some directions to the waiter. "Heidseck—spurious, of course, Blake, but not half bad. Hallett, old boy, swallow down animosities; drown 'em in the flowing bowl, and Elsie and Ina must join in. The fight was a fair one, and we're beaten. There's Wallaroo ahead, a dead certainity if ever there was one."
Hallett came forward, and held out his hand to his rival. "You are right, Horace, and I congratulate you, Mr. Blake."
Elsie admired him at the moment very much, but she admired Blake still more, as, with winning courtesy, he responded to Hallett's congratulations.
"If there had been twenty fewer Irishmen in Groondi, you, not I, would have been member for Luya," he said. "But, as Lord Horace says, there's Wallaroo ahead, and we shall fight in the Legislative Assembly yet, Mr. Hallett, in as friendly a fashion, I hope, as we have fought here."