The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 101

"You must not talk now," Fred said, "but save your strength, and in a few days we hope you will be quite well. Sleep if you can, and in the mean time we will send you a physician."

"No, no," our patient exclaimed, hurriedly; "I want no meddlesome quack near me, with his solemn face and pretended knowledge. There is not a doctor in Ballarat that I would trust with my life. Besides, they are so expensive, and where is the money to come from to pay a physician's bills?"

"We will be responsible for his bill," rejoined Fred, soothingly. "You have been grievously hurt, and need better attention than we can give you."

"But I say no," reiterated Mr. Critchet; "I shall get well, and to you alone will the praise be due. And hark ye, young men! don't be too forward hereafter in volunteering to a.s.sume another's debts. You may live to repent it. Now let me rest for an hour or two, and when I awake I think that I shall feel stronger."

The old man, who spoke with a sort of dictatorial officiousness, as though he had been accustomed to command all his lifetime, closed his eyes, and in a few minutes was in a troubled sleep; and as he did not require the services of both of us to attend him, I went to bed, and left Fred watching by his side, with the understanding that I was to be called at daylight, so that I could relieve him and let him obtain a few hours' rest, which he very much needed.

Fred called me at the specified time, but our patient, instead of being better, was much worse, and was laboring under the effects of a high fever. A dozen times he attempted to leave his bed, and as often did I restrain him, and soothe him with kind words, until at length, just before daylight, I recollected a bottle of opium that I had in my trunk, and I managed to get it and persuade the sick man to take a large dose, which he did under the impression that I was a servant, and was handing him a gla.s.s of wine.

The opiate acted in a beneficial manner, for his system was so weakened that it set him into a deep sleep, which lasted for a number of hours; and before he had awakened we had removed him to a little room that we had part.i.tioned off from the main store, where he could be free from most of the noise and confusion that large sales occasioned.

About sunrise, the first person that entered the store was the old man's nephew, Follet. He looked agitated and alarmed, and shuddered when he saw the stains of blood upon the doorstep, and also on the floor of the store where we had rested the old man before putting him on the mattress. He did not raise his eyes to our faces, although many times I endeavored to get a fair glance at his face, to see if I could read his thoughts.

"I have bad news this morning," he said, at length, finding we were not disposed to open the conversation.

"Have you, indeed?" asked Fred, with a slight sneer.

"I slept from my uncle's tent last night," he went on to say, "and upon returning this morning I find that there has been violence and robbery committed. My poor relative is missing, and I fear murdered, for his bed is b.l.o.o.d.y, and tracks of blood are to be seen on the ground."

"And in regard to the robbery," Fred asked, "how do you know that he has lost any thing?"

"O, I am positive on that score, because my uncle had about a thousand ounces of gold, in nuggets and fine dust, buried under one corner of his tent, and the treasure is gone," cried Follet, eagerly.

"You are certain of that, I suppose?" Fred asked.

"O, quite certain, because the gold is the first thing that I thought of when I found that my uncle had been murdered," exclaimed the young fellow, with his eyes still cast to the floor.

"Do you suspect any one?" we asked, with a design to bring him out.

"There is blood upon your door step and floor, and the tracks lead this way," he answered evasively.

I saw that he raised his eyes quick as lightning to note what effect his words had upon us; but meeting the stern glance of Fred, he again gazed upon the floor.

"I suppose that we might effect a compromise, and get somebody to swear that we did not molest your uncle, if we promised five hundred of the thousand ounces that the robbers and would-be a.s.sa.s.sins obtained," Fred remarked, in an under tone, and in a careless sort of manner.

"I, for one," the young fellow replied, "should never be disposed to ask questions, although you can imagine my feelings at the thought of the bad treatment that the old fellow received. When can I have the dust?"

The question disconcerted Fred for a moment, for he had no idea that the fellow would answer as he did.

"As soon as your uncle is well enough to talk about money matters, we will mention the subject," I rejoined, hastily.

"Well enough?" he asked; "I thought that you said he was dead."

"O, bless you, no, indeed; he is far from being a dead man, and we hope, by proper treatment, to see him well in the course of a few weeks."

The nephew's face darkened, and his eyes looked snaky, as though he would like to strike, but dared not. We motioned to him, and led the way to the small private room where Mr. Critchet was lying, and when he saw his uncle's wan features, he turned pale, and his agitation was intense.

He saw that we were watching his movements, and tried to appear as though surprised, but the artificial effort was too much for him; and finally he turned and left the room, giving as an excuse that his feelings overpowered him.

"You can see the sufferer every day, if you are disposed," Fred said, "but it must always be in the presence of witnesses. When your uncle is well he can act as he pleases, but here he remains until cured."

"Your language is mysterious, and seems to reflect upon me as a man of honor," he exclaimed. "Do I understand you to say that you suspect me of injuring my poor uncle, whom I loved above all earthly things?"

"With the exception of playing cards," Fred added.

"You shall be sorry for your words, and perhaps I may make you appear in rather an equivocal light before many hours have pa.s.sed;" and with a look of devilish malice the nephew, who had attempted to murder his old uncle for a few thousand dollars' worth of gold dust, left the store, and we did not care if we never laid eyes upon his treacherous, cold-looking face again, although I had serious forebodings that we had not got rid of him entirely, and that he would work us injury.

I hinted something of the kind to Fred, but he laughed at it, and in a few minutes we had a rush of morning customers, and all thoughts of Follet and his vengeance were banished from my mind.

I think that we were seated at breakfast, and wondering why Mr. Brown had been absent for such a length of time from the store, when who should pay us a visit but the police commissioner, Mr. Sherwin, a tall, dignified man, with a face that had no more expression in it than a piece of coal. He was never known to lean to the side of mercy during the whole of his career as an officer, and as commissioner he had exclusive jurisdiction over the petty court of Ballarat, and fined and sentenced miners, who were brought before him for drunkenness and petty larceny, without mercy. He was an ambitious man, and had striven for a long time to get a seat upon one of the benches of the upper courts in Melbourne, but owing to the want of influence, he had never succeeded.

Every person that he imagined could sway the governor-general was treated with delightful consideration; but a look blacker than a raven's wing was the reward of every one who ventured on familiarity not up to his standard of excellence.

I must confess that I was surprised at the early visit of the commissioner, and I was still more astonished when I saw half a dozen policemen near the door, as though they were on business that they were ashamed of, and desired to keep out of sight; still, it never entered our minds that we were the parties that the policemen were watching.

Supposing that the commissioner wished to purchase some articles from our store, Fred went to attend upon him, while I continued to eat my breakfast.

"I want no goods, sir," returned Mr. Sherwin, in a short, sharp tone, in reply to Fred's question as to what he would be served with.

Fred appeared slightly disconcerted, and returned to his breakfast with an independent expression upon his face, that spoke more than words the contempt he felt for the visitor.

"You young men appear to be quite at your ease," the commissioner said, surveying our indifference with no favorable eye.

"Why should we not be?" asked Fred; "we have a license for our store, we have paid for our goods, and owe no man a penny."

"Does your license extend to killing and robbing men?" asked the commissioner, in an insolent tone, and one that we knew he used to insult us with.

Fred sprang to his feet, and an angry reply was upon his tongues, but I managed to check him.

"An explanation of these words is required," I said, as mildly as my nature would allow; and to my surprise, instead of facing me, and answering, the commissioner pointed to the stains on the floor, and asked, in a sneering tone,--

"Whose blood is that?"

"That of an old and helpless man," I returned, bearing his searching glance without flinching, although I had an inward feeling that told me that we were standing in a suspicious att.i.tude, and that one false move would wreck us both.

"Remember," Mr. Sherwin continued, "I do not ask you to criminate yourselves, but if a full confession is made, I will lay the matter before the governor-general, and perhaps he may be disposed to grant you some mercy. I fancy that a frank confession would be the most desirable course for both of you to pursue," the commissioner said, in a careless tone, as though he did not care whether we complied with his advice or not.

"All the confession that we can make is to tell the truth," cried Fred, who always grew cooler the more imminent the danger; "we will simply state the facts, and then you can judge of our guilt."

The commissioner made a sign for Fred to go on, although I could see by his face that he was antic.i.p.ating a yarn, and was prepared to believe just as much of it as he pleased.

Fred told the circ.u.mstances of the affair just as they occurred, and without equivocation. Mr. Sherwin listened without interruption, and also, I will add, without belief.

"Of course I can see the old man?" the commissioner asked, in a half-sneering manner, as though prepared for us to deny him the right.

"Certainly," answered Fred; and he led the way to the little private room where Mr. Critchet was lying, and, to our joy, still sleeping, which argued well for his ultimate recovery.