The Rider of Waroona Part 10

"You were evidently prepared for emergencies," he said.

She laughed as she laid the weapon on the table.

"After what happened to-day, Mr. Durham, I'm all nerves. When I heard you riding to the house I was frightened lest it should be some more of the scoundrels coming to see what else they could rob from me. You see, I'm all alone here except for poor old Patsy Malone--he's just a poor half-witted fool who was with my husband and my husband's father before him, and he thinks, poor old creature, that wherever I go he has to go too. I had to bring him out here with me to save the scandal he would have made. Sure, he's harmless enough anywhere, but what could he do if some of those thieving scoundrels rode up here and robbed me of the last few papers and things those bank rascals have not yet had the chance of stealing? But sit down, Mr. Durham, sit down. I'll tell the old fool to get you some tea--a cup won't harm you after your long ride. And maybe you'll take just a bit of something? You'll be hungry."

She was out of the room before Durham could answer, but he heard her calling for her ancient retainer and giving him instructions with the same volubility that she had shown when speaking to him.

"It won't be a minute, Mr. Durham. Luckily the fire was still in, for Patsy was only finished washing the dishes scarcely five minutes ago.

And what is the news from the township? Have they caught the robbers yet? Or do you think they have very far to look for them if they really want the man who did it? Now there's a foolish thing for me to say! I forgot. Of course, it's yourself that has come up to catch him. You'll forgive me, Mr. Durham, but I can a.s.sure you I never had so great a shock to my nerves as I had to-day. What's to become of me now that all those doc.u.ments are gone? You see, when I came away my solicitor in Dublin--you see, he was my husband's solicitor and his father's solicitor before him, so, as you may judge, he is an old man, though not so old as old Patsy out there--but, as I was saying, he said----"

She commenced speaking as she entered the room, continued as she walked to the table and sat down, and appeared to Durham as though she were going on indefinitely.

"Will you pardon me one moment," he said. "I left my horse at----"

"Of course, of course," she cried, starting up. "Sure the poor beast will be tired, too, and hungry. Wait, wait, Mr. Durham, I'll send old Patsy----"

"Oh, no, don't trouble. I'll just take the saddle off and turn him into the yard. It's Brennan's horse and had a feed before we started."

He was out on the verandah before she could leave the room.

When he returned, Mrs. Burke was watching a bent and decrepit-looking old man laying the cloth. He gave a furtive glance at Durham as he entered the room.

"Go on with your work, Patsy, go on, and don't dawdle. Don't I tell you Mr. Durham is both tired and hungry? Never mind looking at folk. Go on now."

Patsy mumbled an inaudible reply as he stooped over the table.

"You must bear with him, Mr. Durham," she said as soon as the old man had left the room. "He's been so long with the Burke family he feels he's ent.i.tled to know everyone who comes into the place. You see what a fragile old creature he is--and he's all I've got in the place if some of those scoundrels come and attack us."

She jumped out of her seat and paced from one end of the room to the other.

"Sure I was a fool," she exclaimed. "I ought to have asked Brennan to come out. He's half Irish, leastways he's Irish born in Australia, and he'd have understood."

"I don't think you need be afraid, Mrs. Burke," Durham said quietly.

"You're not likely to be troubled."

"Oh, you don't know. You're a great strong man and able to fight a dozen maybe. But a lonely woman--haven't they got my papers, and won't they think that there's a lot more in the house and money too, maybe, and jewels? And what is there to keep them from robbing the place and burning it down over our heads, with only that poor old fool out there and a poor weak woman like myself to face?"

He looked at her as she paced to and fro, her handsome figure moving with the grace of a Delilah and her wonderful eyes flashing a greater eloquence than her tongue, as her glance from time to time caught his.

"You need not be afraid," he repeated. "Those responsible for the robbery of the bank will not be anxious to appear anywhere in public for some time."

She stood in the centre of the room where the full glare of the lamp fell upon her.

"Oh, I don't know," she said, "I don't know. I would not trust them.

Besides----"

"Besides what?"

"Well, I was thinking that n.o.body knows who they are for certain, and what difference would it make to them, or to any of us, if they rode down the main street of Waroona under the very noses of yourself and all the troopers in Australia?"

"That is scarcely likely, Mrs. Burke."

"I don't know," she repeated. "You don't know who they are, or you would have them inside the walls of the lock-up. Now tell me, have you any idea?"

"I cannot tell you that, Mrs. Burke. What I can tell you is to put out of your mind entirely any fear that they will pay you a visit."

She shook her head and resumed her walk to and fro.

"Suppose they come?" she exclaimed, halting at the table opposite to him. "Suppose they come at dead of night? I might be murdered in my bed while I was asleep and only know it when I woke up to find myself killed."

Durham laughed.

"It's true, and you know it, Mr. Durham. Sure I never was so shaken and nervous as I am to-night! Could you send Brennan out when you return to the township?"

"I am afraid that is impossible," he said.

"But why? Sure the fellow has nothing to do but sleep, and he may as well sleep here as in his own quarters."

"He is on duty to-night."

"On duty? Now that the bank's robbed, I suppose he's guarding it? The horse is stolen, so you lock the door of the empty stable, Mr. Durham; but where there's a chance of another horse being stolen you let it look after itself as best it may. And that's what you call doing your duty and earning the money we poor unfortunate taxpayers have to provide for you!"

"I am afraid I cannot discuss that matter with you, Mrs. Burke," he said coldly.

"No!" she retorted hotly. "No, you can't. All you can do is to put the only constable in the place to guard an empty bank----"

"There is a reason why Brennan should remain in the township to-night.

It is therefore quite impossible for him to come out here--as well as being unnecessary."

She flounced round and resumed her rapid striding until old Patsy appeared with the tea.

"Make haste, now, Patsy, make haste!" she exclaimed. "Sure you are the slowest old fool ever set on the earth to delay and keep people waiting."

The old man, mumbling to himself, set the meal and left the room.

"Now, Mr. Durham, just make yourself at home with such scant hospitality as I can show you. If it was in Ireland, sure I'd give you a meal worth the eating, but here, with me not knowing whether I'm to own this place or not, and without a soul about it save useless old Patsy to do a hand's turn, you'll understand it's only a poor pot-luck sort of spread at the best I can offer. But such as it is, it is offered with a free heart, though you are going to leave me to be murdered by the scoundrels whenever they like to come."

"You will laugh at your fears to-morrow," Durham said as he drew up to the table.

"They are not fears, Mr. Durham. You don't know; you're not Irish, and so don't understand, but Brennan would. It's not fear. It's what we term presentiment. Not all the Irish have it, but only some of them. It's my misfortune to be one of them. I have it. Sure I was tortured the whole of last night, what with anxiety and sleeplessness and worry, and all through that wretched bank affair. It was presentiment. I tried to laugh myself out of it, but as soon as I got into the township this very morning, what did I hear? Of course, you know. Well, now I have just the same feeling that to-night there's to be more dirty work by those thieving scoundrels, and it's here they're coming this time, here--and I'm to be left to their mercy, just one poor weak, defenceless woman and an old half-witted fool of a man. It makes me just----"

She left her sentence uncompleted as she turned away, with a break in her voice, and stood by the open window leading out on to the verandah.

As Durham glanced at her he saw her shoulders heave and her hands convulsively clasp.

Through the chill of her forgetfulness the love impulse surged.

"If you are really so distressed about the matter," he said quickly, "if you really fear you will be attacked to-night, I will stay here till the morning."

With a magnificent gesture she faced round from the window and came swiftly towards him, her eyes sparkling, her lips wreathed in a happy smile.