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"It's wicked to think of her wasted on a scoundrel like that," Brennan exclaimed. "You heard what she said, sir? I know she's the only one in the township who understands what to do till the doctor comes. We've sent a man off for him, and they're getting a party together to go out and fetch the sub-inspector and the old man in. She's offered to go too.
It may save their lives, for, from what Conlon said, they're badly hurt, both of them."
"Has the gold gone?" Wallace asked.
"I reckon so, though there's no saying until we hear what has happened.
But it looks like a bad case of sticking the place up and trying to murder the inmates. Hullo, there's Mr. Gale calling. He's got his buggy.
There's a seat to spare if either of you like to go."
"You'd be of more use than I should, Harding," Wallace said.
"Yes, I'll go," the younger man replied.
Mrs. Eustace came running into the room, her arms full of bottles and bandages.
"I haven't stopped to sort them out--I'll take all I've got," she exclaimed breathlessly.
"I will put them in the buggy while you get a cloak. I am coming with you," Harding said, as he took the articles from her and carried them out to Gale's buggy, which was drawn up outside the bank.
"You had better bring them here; it's quieter and more roomy than any other place in the town," Wallace said to Brennan when they were alone.
"If they can stand the journey," Brennan said under his breath. "I've told Conlon to ride back and let us know; I'll have to stay here."
"Then I'll tell Harding."
He reached the front door as Harding was returning, after having packed the things Mrs. Eustace had given him in the buggy. At the same moment Mrs. Eustace tripped down the stairs and ran across the hall.
"You had better bring them here," he began when she turned quickly towards him.
"Bring them here? Mr. Wallace, do you want to kill them? If they are badly injured it would be fatal to move them this distance. I will send word back at once, but if the doctor comes before you hear, send him on.
Now, I'm ready."
She went out with Harding at her side.
"I am so glad to have you with me," she said softly. "It is good of you to come."
He helped her into the buggy without speaking, though the clinging touch of her hand thrilled him. He had known her as a light-hearted girl, full of frolicsome impulses and mischievous tricks, and had loved her with a pa.s.sion that kept her ever before him. He had seen her when that love-lit image had been veiled by the gloom of seeming disillusion. He had seen her striving to sacrifice herself in order to shield the man who had blighted her life, and he had seen her as a man loves best to see the woman he reveres, throw aside the conventional reserve for him to learn the innermost secret of her heart. But never had he seen her as she appeared to him at that moment and later, when they arrived at the scene of the outrage, cool, clear-headed, capable, thinking only of the sufferings of others, cheering them with tactful sympathy, tending them with gentle care, the while her own soul was down-weighted with care and sorrow.
Throughout the ten-mile drive little was said, each one of the three instinctively refraining from all reference to the subject which was uppermost in their minds, and failing to maintain even a desultory conversation on more commonplace topics. Gale drove his pair at a hand gallop all the way till the road swerved from the straight and through the dim mystery of the starlit bush an angry red glow showed among the trees.
The last of the homestead, now an irregular heap of smouldering ashes over which stray lambent flames flickered and danced, served to shed sufficient light to show where two still figures lay under the shelter of Dudgeon's rackety old buggy, thrown over on its side. The trooper's horse, tethered to a tree, pawed the ground impatiently as it champed its bit, while its master, with a carbine on his arm, paced slowly to and fro. As the galloping pair swung into sight he faced round sharply and brought his carbine to the ready, till he recognised Harding.
"Are you the doctor? You're badly wanted," he exclaimed as Gale reined up beside him.
"Quick. Help me out," Mrs. Eustace said as Harding leaped to the ground.
She ran lightly over to the two figures. Through the rough bandage the troopers had tied round Durham's head a red stain was spreading. Dudgeon lay with glittering eyes staring vacantly. His right leg was bandaged, but more than a stain showed upon it.
She knelt down beside the old man, and as with deft, quick fingers she untied the bandage, she looked up at Harding.
"Bring me that packet of cotton-wool, the little leather case, all the bandages, and the bottle with the red label, at once. Tell the trooper to fetch the others."
By the time he returned she had the handkerchief the trooper had bound round the old man's leg loosened.
"Open the case and give me the scissors," she said without a trace of excitement or nervousness in her voice.
She slipped a rent in the trouser and held the edges back, revealing a punctured wound out of which a red stream gushed. In a moment she had a wad of cotton-wool rolled and moistened it from the bottle with the red label, placing it with a firm light touch on the wound.
"While I hold this, cut the trouser leg right down," she said, and Harding, his own nerves steadied by the calmness of hers, did as she bid.
The trooper came over with the rest of the articles, and while she watched what Harding was doing she told him, quietly, how to prepare a lotion and bring it to her.
Gale came over as soon as he had secured his horses.
"Will you go down to the men's huts and see if there is a bunk where we can put him?" she said, looking quickly at Gale.
"Why didn't you think of that?" Gale exclaimed as he glanced at the trooper. "You ought to have taken them there at once."
"You had better go too," she added to the trooper. "Bring something back with you, a door or a table or anything that will do to carry him on."
Left alone with Harding, she never ceased until she had the wound stanched, cleansed, and properly bound up.
"There is brandy in that flask, Fred. Mix about a tablespoonful in three times as much water."
He brought her the stuff in a pannikin, believing it was for herself.
"Raise his head gently," she said, and slowly poured the mixture between the old man's nerveless lips.
Without a pause she turned to Durham and had the ugly wound on his scalp laid bare. Snipping the hair away from it, she lightly touched the bruised skin surrounding the jagged cut.
"I'm afraid the skull is fractured--I hope the doctor will soon be here," she whispered, as she busied herself with the cotton-wool and red-labelled bottle.
By the time she had Durham's head bandaged, Gale and the trooper returned, carrying the door from one of the huts.
"There are two huts with a single bunk in each, and one with four," Gale said.
"Use the two with the single bunks," she said. "When are the others coming from the township?"
"They're coming along the road now," the trooper answered.
"Run and see if they have any blankets with them. If not, send someone back at once for some."
But there was more than blankets in the buggy that came up at breakneck speed. By the veriest chance the doctor had been within a mile or so of Waroona and had come away at once, bringing with him such articles as he knew would be wanted. He hastened over to the two wounded men just as Dudgeon gave utterance to the first sound he had made since the troopers had dragged him out of the burning homestead.
The doctor bent over him, rapidly examining the bandage round the leg.
He stood up and turned to Durham.
"Who put on those bandages?" he asked sharply, as he looked up.
"I did, doctor. I plugged the bullet-hole with an iodoform wad and stopped the bleeding. I put a pad on Mr. Durham's wound, but I fancy his skull is injured."