Nevermore Part 36

Lance's freedom.

The bridal preparations, however, went on. Mrs. Vernon, having once expressed her sincere regret at the sacrifice, so complete and uncalled for, which Estelle was about to make, and having withstood, not wholly unmoved, the indignant remonstrance of the high-souled maiden, remained acquiescent under protest. Their vessel, an American clipper, was visited; the cabin allotted to Mr. and Mrs. Johnson criticised, but finally furnished and fitted up with many a cunning device for staving off the ills of a life on the ocean wave or lightening the _ennui_ of a 'home on the rolling deep.'

Finally, the very day fixed for the ceremony _did_ arrive. Estelle appeared at breakfast pale but determined, and about eleven o'clock Mr.

Vernon returned from Melbourne in a cab, prepared for paternal functions. Then this abnormally small South Yarra wedding-party drove down the Toorak Road, and, not far from the entrance of Caroline Street thereunto, alighted before the small but ornate church of St. Mark's.

'By the bye, Estelle,' said Mr. Vernon suddenly (he had long since arrived at the semi-paternal stage, which included the use of her Christian name), 'I met an old friend of yours in Melbourne, just down from the diggings.'

'An old friend?' she replied smilingly.

'Well, one of your oldest in this country, excepting ourselves. Guess who it was.'

'I am sure I cannot tell,' she said, 'unless it be John Polwarth. I shall always think of him as a real friend.'

'Not very far off. Was there no one else at Growlers'? Think again.'

'Mr. Stirling or Mr. Hastings then--good and true friends both. Which of them can it be?'

'Well, it was Charlie Stirling. His father was an old friend of mine, and a better fellow than Charlie doesn't live.'

'How strange! how wonderful!' said Estelle, almost musingly. 'To think that he should be down here before Lance goes away. Do you think he will come to see--to see--the ceremony?' And here a blush faintly overspread her countenance.

'He wasn't sure. Just off the coach, and covered with mud, but would rush off to his hotel and do his best. Then he told me a piece of news about himself.'

'What was that?'

'Why, he had got a year's leave of absence, and as he had made a lucky hit in the Coming Event,--a claim that's nearly as good as Number Six, he says,--he's going to treat himself to a run home.'

'Going to England! Mr. Stirling going home! You don't say so? Who would have thought it?'

'Well, he is just the man to appreciate it thoroughly. It will improve him, as it does every Australian with the requisite amount of brains.

Though I really don't see how Charlie Stirling _could_ be much improved--except by a good wife,' he added thoughtfully.

'I am sure I hope he will find one,' Estelle replied; 'no one is more worthy of that or any other happiness. I wonder if he will come, and whether he will think Lance much altered?'

Mr. Vernon made no reply to this latter remark. Indeed he was strongly inclined to say, 'Confound Lance!'--or even to use a stronger expression. But he consoled himself with the conviction that it was impossible to advise women for their good--even the best of them. And thus reflecting he preceded the little party into the church.

They had purposely delayed so as to be as near the appointed hour--half-past eleven o'clock--as possible; and the half-hour chimes from the churches in the city were rhythmically audible as they entered and took their places. The gray-haired clergyman--a tall, venerable personage--advanced from the vestry and stood as expectant of the entrance of the bridegroom. As a side door opened, that personage entered from the right side of the chancel.

Mrs. Vernon gazed at the newcomer with unaffected interest. In certain respects he was a man whom no girl would have been ashamed to acknowledge--tall, erect, stalwart, his dark crisp hair and beard trimmed according to the prevailing fas.h.i.+on. He looked around with a quick and searching glance which apparently took in every individual in the church. Then he fixed his eyes steadily upon the group in the midst of which Estelle stood, and advanced towards his bride. He smiled as Estelle murmured his name, and hastily shook hands with Mr. and Mrs.

Vernon, who seemed hardly prepared for the salutation.

There was nothing particular to find fault with in his morning suit, yet somehow Estelle could have wished one or two details altered.

The bride looked more than once towards the rear of the church, as if expectant. But the inexorable minutes fled, and walking forward, at a sign from the clergyman, she knelt before the communion rails. One gleam of triumph, which, had she caught, would have strangely disturbed her thoughts, flashed from her companion's eyes. He knelt beside her, and the time-honoured service commenced.

Every precaution had been taken to secure secrecy in the matter of the ceremony. When the little party walked un.o.btrusively in and the service began, there appeared to be no spectators but those already known and invited. In some mysterious way, however, the news spread. A wedding is rarely, if ever, conducted without a few attendants not included in the original programme. Some few strangers appeared as the clergyman commenced to read the opening sentences. They were not, however, such as to attract attention. But just as the clergyman reached the words, 'Wilt thou take this woman to be thy wedded wife?' two men entered at one of the side doors and looked searchingly at the bridal pair. One of them gave vent to a sudden e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n, while the other, a tall man in police uniform, drenched and travel-stained, walked rapidly up to the altar. To the dismay of the congregation, he placed his hand on the bridegroom's shoulder. Not less menacing and abrupt were his words than this unusual act, of such unnatural seeming in a sacred edifice--

'Lawrence Trevenna, you are my prisoner. I charge you with the murder of a man known as Ballarat Harry, otherwise Lance Trevanion. Put up your hands,'--here the speaker's tones became harsh and resonant,--'or by ----! I'll shoot you where you stand.'

At the first touch of the stranger's hand, the bridegroom started as if to resist his captors, for by this time Charles Stirling stood by Dayrell's side. For one moment he raised his hand as if to strike his antagonist, but as he faced the pistol level with his brow, and marked the Sergeant's steady eye and grim, set countenance, his courage appeared to waver, then to fail utterly. He mutely acquiesced while the manacles were slipped over his unresisting hands. At this moment Estelle, who had been gazing at this strange and sudden apparition with wide eyes of wonder and alarm, uttered one piercing, heartrending shriek and fell senseless into the arms of Mrs. Vernon.

Then Mr. Vernon, hitherto silent in wonder, as were the other witnesses of the scene, moved as if to address the intruder. It was not necessary to make verbal interrogation; for, advancing a few steps and bowing to the company, he thus addressed them--

'My excuse to you, reverend sir, and these ladies and gentlemen, must be the extremely urgent nature of my errand. My name is Francis Dayrell, a sergeant in the police force of Victoria, at present quartered at Bairnsdale. I have ridden night and day to effect this arrest, and must ask permission to congratulate the lady's friends upon her escape from a fate too terrible to think of. This scoundrel, who has so successfully personated his victim, the late Launcelot Trevanion, is the husband of one Catharine Lawless, through whose information his villainy has been frustrated. Mr. Stirling (here he motioned to that gentleman, who advanced to where the spectators stood amazed and awe-stricken) is in possession of the facts. I leave him to make fuller explanation.' Here Sergeant Dayrell bowed again, not without a certain ease which spoke of different experiences, and removed his prisoner.

It has been remarked that those clever people who dedicate themselves to a criminal career are p.r.o.ne to small oversights and inadvertent acts which often lead to their detection when success seems a.s.sured. Were it not so, such are the qualities of coolness and energy displayed by the 'irregulars' of society, that its virtuous members would have but little chance of survival in _la lutte pour la vie_. After the event every one is wise; surprised, too, that the criminal should not have perceived to what his heedlessness plainly led. The evil-doer himself is even genuinely astonished when, in his interval of enforced leisure, he gains the opportunity of reviewing his 'plan of campaign.' He perhaps owns to the gaol chaplain that he has been 'most imprudent.' But generally he is more concerned to establish a theory of unadulterated bad luck, and to lay the blame upon every one but himself.

Such misadventure occurred to Mr. Lawrence Trevenna--not less cautious than daring, as he had previously proved himself to be. He left home with surly abruptness, telling his ill-used wife that he was going to Monaro and might be a month or more away. She was not to expect him till she saw him, and so on. A large draft of horses to take delivery of, etc.

To these considerate explanations the woman made answer that he need not trouble himself to hurry back on her account--indeed, if he never came back she would be all the better pleased. He might spare himself the trouble of telling more lies than usual, as whatever he did say about his business would make her believe something different.

'It would serve you right, you jade, if I never did come back,' he ground out between his teeth, mingling the words with a savage oath. 'I may take you at your word yet.'

'Do so,' she replied, 'and I'll go down on my knees and thank G.o.d for it. As He is my judge, if it wasn't for the child, you'd never have seen me here a day after you struck me first. Don't think I've left off cursing the day I ever set eyes on you--coward and thief--and worse that you are!'

He looked at her for one moment as she spoke, his eyes so full of murderous rage that a bystander would have thought to see him strike her to the earth. But putting strong constraint on himself, as, with a more than malevolent smile, he bade her go back to the hut and mind her baby,--'you're my wife now--for better, for worse, you know,' he sneered. 'Stay at home and mind the house while your husband's away.'

The last part of this admonition was lost upon the person to whom it was addressed, as with one fierce glance, expressive of the last extremity of hatred and contempt, the woman pa.s.sed into the hut and slammed the heavy door, while her lord and master, whistling carelessly, pressed his horse's side and moved rapidly away.

In apparent pursuance of his proposed plan, Trevenna rode for a dozen miles down the Monaro road, then, wheeling suddenly to the eastward, struck across the bush until he picked up the track which led to Mount Gibbo. There he met by appointment Mr. Caleb c.o.ke, and was thus enabled to arrange certain illegal enterprises upon which they had resolved to embark.

For the first few days after his departure Kate felt little else but an all-pervading sense of relief, almost amounting to absolute pleasure.

Lonely and depressing as was her isolated life, miles away from any neighbour; left for weeks at a time without a soul to speak to,--as she would have expressed it,--she still had her homely and simple avocations, amid which, like many a similarly situated bush matron, she found sufficient daily occupation.

She had her baby boy,--a fine st.u.r.dy year-old fellow,--her poultry, milch cows, and small patch of garden, to all of which she addressed herself in turn. By degrees a softened expression came over her face.

The hard lines died out for a little s.p.a.ce. It may have been that she even repented of the bitter words and angry mood which had of late become habitual with her. And when in the sunset-time she caught her roan mare and rode around the paddock for the cows, carrying the laughing baby boy before her on the saddle, there was a wondrous transformation of the sullen-browed shrew of the morning.

The days pa.s.sed on. The weather changed. The fresh, bright, cloudless days of the early Austral summer commenced to follow each other in unbroken peaceful beauty. The proud heart of the desolate woman was insensibly touched by the softening influences of the Great Mother.

'Bird and bee and blossom taught her'--a lesson of self-reproach and faintly shadowed amendment.

'Perhaps if I took him more easy like, he'd be a better man. Suppose he'd married Tessie, I wonder if he would have been different. She was always that quiet and patient with us all. She could get round Ned and bring him straight when no one else could. Anyhow I might have a try.'

Revolving good resolutions, Kate Trevenna, who, with all her faults, was energetic and most capable in household work, as are most of the bush-bred Australian girls of her cla.s.s, set to work with a will and made her dwelling and everything within fifty feet of it as neat as a new pin. The forenoon having pa.s.sed quickly in this occupation, she sat down to her mid-day meal,--a cup of tea, a slice of cold corned beef, with home-baked bread and b.u.t.ter of her own making,--when a traveller rode up. Him she knew well as a stock-rider on one of the far-out stations in the Monaro district.

'Come in and have a cup of tea, Billy. Let your horse go for a bit,' was the invitation by custom of the country. 'You've come a good way, by the look of him. I'm all alone, you see; Larry's gone a journey.'

'I know that, Mrs. Trevenna,' said the young fellow, taking off his saddle and putting a pair of hobbles on his horse before he permitted him his liberty; 'I've just come from Omeo.'

'Omeo? that's not where he went. He's nigh Monaro by this time, and going farther still.'

'Well, he was in Omeo last Monday,' said the stock-rider, 'or some one dashed like him. They talked as if it was Ballarat Harry. I don't know him, but anyhow Larry's bay horse Bredbo was there, for I seen _him_ right enough. I couldn't be mistook about _that_. He was foaled near our old place.'

'Trevenna at Omeo! Then he never went to Monaro at all!' cried the woman, with such a look, partly of surprise and partly of wild reproach, in her eyes that the young man recoiled for an instant. Something was wrong, he saw with instinctive quickness. He made a futile effort to undo the domestic damage he felt he had brought to pa.s.s.

'Perhaps he changed his mind,' he suggested doubtfully. 'He's such a rum cove, is Larry. No one knows when he's comin' or goin' half the time.'