The Gold Hunters' Adventures Part 119

CHAPTER LXIII.

THE SAME, CONTINUED.

"Are you sick?" we demanded, springing towards the prostrate man and helping him to a chair.

"I know not," he replied, wildly; "but unless I am dreaming, I heard a voice demanding admittance to the store. Do not open the door, for mercy's sake. I cannot bear to look upon his face again."

"Poor man," muttered Fred; "his story has affected him to such a degree that his mind wanders. Let us put him to bed as soon as possible, for fear of a return of the fever."

"You are mistaken, young men, if you think that fever or a diseased imagination has caused my emotion. See, I am perfectly calm."

In fact, he didn't seem as though afflicted with his late sickness, for his flesh was cool, and his face pale, but for all that he trembled violently, and as though attacked with the ague.

"I thought that I recognized the voice," our patient said, in a half whisper, and in a listening att.i.tude, "but I may have been mistaken."

"Hullo, within there--open the door, and sell me a quart of the best quality," cried the rough voice on the outside, accompanied by another violent shake of the door that made every thing jar again.

Rover uttered a threatening howl, and pawed at the door as though desirous of inserting his teeth into the body of the brawler.

"I was certain that I could not be mistaken," exclaimed Mr. Critchet, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Will you let me have the liquor? Say yes or no," cried the impatient fellow on the outside, with an oath.

"I am positive that that is the voice of my brother-in-law," Mr.

Critchet said. "I have not heard him speak before for six years, yet there are some things that I cannot forget. What shall I do? How shall I act?"

"Do you wish to speak to him?" I asked; "if so, we will admit him, and trust to our arms for security. Not a hair of your head shall be injured, even though you tell him disagreeable truths."

"What say you? Are you awake? Shall I have the rum?" continued our midnight visitor.

I waited for the old gentleman to come to some conclusion, and although he was intensely agitated at the thought of an interview, he gave a token of a.s.sent.

"Call off the dog and let him come in," said Fred, "and do you keep in the background for the present," addressing our guest.

I quieted Rover with a word, and then unbolted and unbarred the door and threw it open, feeling some curiosity to see the man who had had the audacity to commit extensive forgeries, and yet escape the punishment of the law, especially when the criminal code of England is so rigid that rank or station in life is not respected.

"Well, sleepy heads, have you woke up?" was the impudent question that first greeted me, and through the door strode a tall, powerful-built man, with dark whiskers which covered his face almost to his eyelids, and long, black hair plentifully sprinkled with gray. He wore a short monkey-jacket, such as sailors are in the habit of adopting as a convenient overcoat for working aloft on shipboard--a blue flannel shirt, with large collar turned over and confined to his neck with a black silk handkerchief--a pair of fancy colored pants, somewhat soiled and worn, yet a little better than the majority of the miners were accustomed to wear at Ballarat--and lastly, the visitor had on his head a felt hat of ample proportions, such as the stockmen and shepherds of Australia have adopted to protect their heads from the noonday heat, and eyes from the bright sun, while scouring the plains in search of cattle.

"You are late in your purchases," I remarked, in a conciliatory tone, as the stranger entered.

"A man with money, and a desire to spend it, can choose his own time to trade, I suppose, can't he?" the black visitor asked, in a gruff manner; and as he moved his arm to emphasize his words, I saw the b.u.t.ts of two pistols protruding from his coat pockets--a discovery that did not alarm me, although I was glad that their possession was revealed.

"That depends upon two things," I replied. "First, whether--"

"Pshaw! don't bother me with your homilies," he exclaimed, impatiently, as I closed the door and turned the key.

"No, I won't, for you are homely enough in all conscience," I answered, pretending to think that he referred to personal beauty.

The stranger turned on me like lightning, and his sinister eyes were expressive of intense rage, but I pretended not to notice his actions.

Rover, however, became slightly alarmed for my welfare, and placed himself between us, and showed his strong teeth with perfect frankness.

"Call off your dog," our visitor said, finding that it was useless to intimidate, "or I will make short work of him, and sell him to the Chinamen as a luxury."

"You would never have another chance to trade with the Celestials," I answered, carelessly.

"Why?" demanded the black ruffian, with a grim smile, as he walked towards that portion of the store where Fred was sitting, Mr. Critchet having entered his room.

"Because, if you harmed my dog, I should take the liberty of shooting you without a moment's delay."

"Well, that is a question that two would have to study over," the stranger answered, in a more subdued tone, and with less inclination to swagger. "I suppose that you little think that I carry these things about me, and that they sometimes bark when I say the word, and more to the purpose than any dog you ever owned." And he tapped the b.u.t.ts of his pistols with a confident air, but the announcement was not such as he had antic.i.p.ated.

"We sometimes do a little in that line ourselves," I answered, "and we take care that the tools we use shall be the best that money can obtain.

When this speaks it means something."

I quietly drew from my coat pocket a revolver, and held it before him, and then as quietly returned it to its resting-place.

"I'm satisfied with your word," the dark-haired stranger said, a grim smile spreading over his face. "When gentlemen meet they should know how to treat each other with courtesy. By your weapon I judge that you are an American."

"My friend and myself both claim that country as the land of our births," I replied, pointing to Fred, who sat smoking his pipe for the purpose of keeping the insects, attracted by our light, at a distance.

"O, I didn't see that you had a companion," the stranger exclaimed, spying Fred for the first time, which somehow rather disconcerted him; but he quickly rallied, and continued to converse in a free and easy manner, like a man who had seen much of the world, and had opportunities of enjoying it.

"I am glad to know that you are Americans, for I have visited that country, and was kindly treated by those with whom I came in contact. A great and fast country, as I can bear witness, for while travelling in the southern part I suffered a railroad collision and a steamboat explosion on the same day, and yet escaped with whole bones. Were I not an Englishman I would be an American, to use the words of Alexander, altered to suit the occasion."

"May I ask if you belong here in Ballarat?" I demanded, with the intention of finding out what his business and prospects were.

"To tell you the truth, I am here on what your countrymen call a 'bender;' a freak that a.s.sails me about once in three months, and after it is over I return to my stock-house and think how great a man can be, and yet how little."

"Then you are a stockman?" I said.

"That is not what I am termed," he cried, with an expression of pride upon his dark face. "I employ stockmen to look after my cattle, but I am called a proprietor."

"I always supposed that proprietors preferred to live in the large cities, and trust their flocks and herds to employees," Fred said, dryly.

"What is it to you what I prefer?" he demanded, turning on Fred fiercely. "Have I not a right to do as I please as long as I am my own master, and pay those who work for me?"

"No one denies it, I believe," exclaimed Fred. "I only made a supposition. Some men dislike to be seen in cities, while others would go mad if obliged to live on the plains. I sometimes think that it depends entirely upon the conscience which every man is supposed to have locked within his breast, although my arguments are liable to be refuted, on the ground that there are some men dest.i.tute of such an article."

"Death and the devil! do you refer to me, you babbler?" shouted the stranger, his hands again seeking the pockets where his pistols were nestling.

"Don't get enraged at a few words," I said, half soothingly and half ironically. "My friend didn't mean to cut you with his remarks."

"We won't quarrel over an unmeaning word," I said. "Give me a quart of good whiskey, and I will go back to the tent where I have agreed to stop for the balance of the night. I was told that I could get the best liquor here of any place in Ballarat."

"Raising cattle is considered a profitable business in Australia," I hinted, while pretending to be attending upon his wants.