Home
Fictions/Novels
Short Stories
Poems
Essays
Plays
Nonfictions
 
Authors
All Titles
 






In Association with Amazon.com

Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales > This page

First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales, a novel by George Manville Fenn

Chapter 40. The Doctor Plays Magistrate

< Previous
Table of content
Next >
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER FORTY. THE DOCTOR PLAYS MAGISTRATE

Do I mean Nic did not get down till breakfast was ready, about eight o'clock?

No, I do not. This was Australia in its earlier days of the colony, and people's habits were different from ours.

Nic Braydon's lateness consisted in his being fast asleep when the piping crow began to run up and down its scales to announce that the stars were paling faster, when the laughing jackasses chuckled at the loud crowing of the cocks; and he was dreaming about Mayne being brought up to the station by mounted police when the sun had been visible an hour.

Nic started up in a profuse perspiration, jumped out of bed and dressed rapidly, eager to get out in the paddocks to see that the bullocks and horses that brought the party on the previous day were properly attended to.

He now met the three men who had come with the waggon busy enough unpacking, and he found that Brookes, old Sam, and the three blacks were all hard at work. The fresh milk was being brought into the dairy, the horses were being fed and rubbed down, and all was going on in the satisfactory way which the boy felt would please his father.

Directly after he ran against old Sam.

"Does one's eyes good to see the master back again, sir. How well he looks!"

"Yes, Sam. By the way, I didn't see the horse. How does it look?"

"Splendid, sir; but a good run in our enclosure won't do it no harm."

"Let's go and look at it."

"Look at it?" said the old man, grinning. "Well, you'll have to wait till the master comes back."

"Comes back! What, is he up?"

"Up, my lad? Hours ago, and his nag saddled and gone."

"And I asleep!" cried Nic, in a tone full of vexation. "Which way did he go? I'll saddle up and ride to meet him."

"He's gone over to the Wattles."

"To Mr Dillon's?"

"Yes, sir. He had a few words with Brooky, and went off directly. Here, let me clap the saddle on for you, sir."

"No, thank you, Sam," said the boy, with the tone of his voice changing. "I don't think I wish to go now."

The old man looked at him compassionately. "Don't you be downhearted, my lad," he said. "You've done right enough. You out with the plain truth, and you call me for a witness 'bout Leather. My word's as good with your father as Brooky's. Don't you be afraid. You and me's going to win."

"Yes, Sam, I hope so," said Nic; and he walked away, to busy himself about the farm stock till breakfast time.

Just before it was ready the doctor rode back, threw the rein to old Sam, nodded to Nic, and, looking unusually stern, he entered the house with his son.

Breakfast was ready, the governor and his wife up, and the latter kept the conversation going merrily enough, for she could read the doctor's face, and felt from Nic's looks that something was wrong--something for which he was about to be blamed.

Every one was glad when the meal was at an end, and the doctor rose, when Mrs Braydon darted an imploring look at her husband, the two girls one of commiseration at their brother, whose forehead did not wrinkle, but became crumpled and pitted, just as it used to at the Friary when he had to deal with a knotty sum or equation.

"Oh dear!" said Lady O'Hara. "I thought we had left all the business at home. Are you coming with me, John?"

"No; my dear; I think Braydon wants me."

"If you please," said the doctor. "Nic, my boy, fetch the two men round to my room. This way, O'Hara."

Nic went out to obey his father's order and the governor followed the doctor into the room which stood at the end of the house, and was used by the doctor for his own study, library, surgery, harness-room-- storehouse for everything, in fact, in connection with the station.

"It's not very serious, I hope," said the governor, as soon as they were alone.

"Serious enough," replied the doctor. "Dillon has told me all about it, and I am half pleased, half angry with the boy."

"Then he can't have done much amiss, doctor," said the governor. "Plus kills minus. If Nic is half and half, he ought to be a very decent sort of boy."

"You'll help me if I want help?"

"Of course," said the governor. "There, I dare say there's not much amiss. Boys of seventeen, or so, are not at their worst age. It is over that trouble about your assigned servant?"

"Yes; the boy likes him, and I am not sure about him."

"He may be honest enough now; but he was always a strangely soured fellow, and I don't think I liked him much."

"Prejudice, perhaps."

"I'm afraid so; but here comes the boy."

In effect Nic came now to the door, followed by the two men, both of whom looked uneasy, while Nic's countenance was disfigured by rather a sullen, ill-used look.

"Come in," said the doctor sharply. "You too, my men. Nic, stand there."

Nic took the appointed place, and the men were nearly opposite, both stroking their heads carefully, Brookes his hair, old Sam his skin, for there was no hair on the top to stroke. The governor, who looked pale and weak, sat back in a rough chair.

"Now, Brookes," said the doctor sternly; "I have been over to Mr Dillon and heard about this trouble, one which ought not to have happened in my absence. I should now like to hear your statement."

Brookes gave it, and old Sam kept on uttering grunts till the man had done, when he gave his version.

"Now, Dominic," said the doctor sternly, and the governor sat watching the boy keenly. "You have heard what Brookes says. Speak out, sir, like an English gentleman and my son. Let me tell you, first of all, that I do not believe you would be guilty of such an offence against the law as Brookes suggests; but--"

"Oh, it's true enough," grumbled the man.

"Silence, sir!" cried the doctor angrily. "You have spoken; don't interrupt again." Then turning to Nic: "I was going to say, my boy, as this charge has been brought against you in the presence of our governor, that you have aided and abetted a violent convict, I call upon you to clear yourself at once. Now, boy, speak."

"Yes, father, I'll speak," said Nic firmly; "but I can't clear myself."

"What!" cried the doctor angrily. "Do you own that this accusation is true?"

"Yes, it's true enough," cried Brookes. "He helped him to get away from the Wattles."

"Silence, sir!" cried Sir John sternly.

"Speak, Nic. Did you help this man to escape?"

"No, father."

"There!" cried the doctor in triumph; but his countenance fell directly.

"I went to help him if I could, but he got away without."

Brookes chuckled.

"Then he is somewhere about here in the bush, as Brookes says?"

"Yes, father."

"And you know where?"

"Yes, father."

"And you have been in the habit of visiting this desperate man?"

"Yes, father, all that is quite true."

Brookes chuckled again with satisfaction, and rubbed his tawny brown hands as if he were washing them.

"Nic, you astound me!" cried the doctor. "You have, then, encouraged this man about the place during my absence, when I had placed confidence in you and left you in charge. Had you no respect for your mother and sisters?"

"Why, of course, father," cried the boy indignantly. "You don't suppose I should have done what I have, if I hadn't felt sure Leather was innocent?"

"Hear! hear!" said a voice, and Nic looked up to see that Lady O'Hara was at the door, and now came and stood behind Sir John.

"Innocent," cried the doctor, "and hides in the bush, and kills one of my sheep whenever he is hungry!"

"He doesn't, father. I'm sure he wouldn't," cried Nic indignantly.

"And pray, why not?"

"Because he likes me too well."

"Indeed," said the doctor. "Nic, how can you let yourself be imposed upon so easily by a scoundrel?"

"He is not a scoundrel, father," cried Nic, flushing up. "He was condemned for what he never did, and sent out here as a convict."

"I'm afraid they are all innocent, eh, Sir John?" said the doctor.

"A very large percentage, by their own account," replied the governor.

"But this man really is, father," cried Nic.

"How do you know?"

"He told me all his history, father, and I am sure he is honest."

"And takes advantage of my absence to break out and nearly kill one of my men. Then he escapes to the bush, and now steals my sheep."

"It was Brookes who took advantage of your absence, father."

"Oh, Master Nic!"

"You did, sir. You always behaved like a brute and a bully to poor Leather, and you struck him, and of course he struck you again; and then;" cried the boy rapidly, in his excitement, "you told lies to Mr Dillon, and had him fetched over there to be flogged; and do you think," he continued, turning his flushed face to Sir John, "if I knew I was innocent, and I was dragged away to be flogged with the cat, I wouldn't run for the bush? Why, I would to-morrow."

Sir John frowned, and the doctor looked pained and angry, but he did not speak.

"Well, all I know is, I've got the mark o' the chopper on the back o' my head still," said Brookes, rubbing the place softly.

"Mark of the chopper!" cried Nic contemptuously. "You ought to have the mark of the cat."

"Silence, Dominic!" cried the doctor. "It is very clear to me that you have let this man impose upon you by his insidious ways, and I am bitterly hurt by your folly. You ought to know better. However, the past is past. Now make amends by helping to have this man taken. Where is he?"

"Out in the bush, father."

"I know that, sir," said the doctor sternly. "No evasions, if you please. Where is his hiding-place?"

"Don't be angry with me, father," said Nic, in a pleading tone. "I can't tell you."

"You know?"

"Yes, father."

"Then where is he, sir?"

Nic was silent.

"I desire that you tell me at once."

Nic's brow grew more puckered, but his lips tightened. "Look here, boy. Are you going to disgrace me here before Sir John O'Hara by your disobedience, and by refusing to give up this criminal to the law?"

"Father, he is quite innocent, and he has trusted me. I can't be such a coward--such a wretch--as to give him up."

The doctor took a step forward as if to seize his son's arm.

"One moment, Braydon," said Sir John. "Let me speak to him."

The doctor drew back, and stood frowning.

"It is an error of judgment on the boy's part. When we were his age we thought we knew better than our elders; but we know better now. Look here, Dominic, my boy. You are in the wrong. This man, your father's assigned servant, was tried by a jury of his fellow-countrymen, found guilty, and sentenced to transportation. Well, my boy, we are all under the law, which protects us, and we require its protection very much in a new colony of such an exceptional kind as this."

"But the law was unjust to him, Sir John, and cruel."

"I think not, my boy. Certainly mistakes have been made. But here, you see, the law was not so cruel, but said to this man, 'You have served a certain amount of time; now go and prove your sorrow for your crime by making yourself a faithful servant, and in good time you shall go free, with an opportunity for commencing a new career.'"

"Yes, Sir John; and Leather--his name's Frank Mayne--has been a good servant. Hasn't he, father?"

"Yes, he has worked very well."

"And so he did, father, while you were away, till that man drove him to desperation."

"I cannot argue about all this, Dominic," said Sir John. "I have to judge this matter, and I am afraid, my boy, that you have been imposed upon, for matters look very black against this man."

Nic shook his head.

"Well, my boy, they do to me. But look here, Dominic. Now, more than ever, do we all need to join hand in hand--boys as well as men--for our mutual protection. Even during the past few weeks has a desperate gang of scoundrels broken away and taken to the bush, where our warder-guard and the soldiery have been unable to hunt them down. These men must be taken, and your friend too. Now, listen to me, boy. For your sake, as the son of my best friend, I promise you this: if you will enable us to capture this man, he shall have a fair examination before me, and I will carefully balance all evidence, and the good in him against the evil. You will trust me, Dominic?"

"Yes, Sir John; but I can't betray the man who has made me believe in him, and whom I look upon as a friend."

"Then--" cried the doctor.

"Stop!" said Sir John firmly. "This case is adjourned for a week, Dominic. Take time to think, my boy. This man must be taken--he shall be taken. It will be better if you show us where he is, than for him to be seized and driven to desperation. Blood may be shed."

"Here, I can show you where he is, sir!" cried Brookes.

"You know?" cried the doctor.

"Ay, sir. I ain't been keeping an eye on young master here for nothing ever since you've been away. I'll show you where he's to be found, and where he takes the sheep he steals."

"Stop," said Sir John. "We will wait a week to give Dominic time to think. And now, doctor, I think I'll take my airing out on your breezy hills. I'm much stronger to-day."

Sir John rose, and the doctor made an imperative gesture to the men to leave the room before offering Sir John his arm and leading him out; while directly after Mrs Braydon and her daughters entered, Janet going at once to her brother and whispering:

"Thank you, Nic: it was very good and brave."

"Ah," cried Lady O'Hara, "what's that ye're saying, gyurl, to this young criminal?"

"I was only speaking to my brother, Lady O'Hara," said Janet indignantly.

"Only shpaking to your brother. I heard you. Only, eh? I only guess what you said. Ye're encouraging him in his wickedness and his rising against the law. Nic, my boy, you've behaved very badly; you're a disobedient son, and a bad citizen, and I ought to be very angry; but somehow I can't, for I like the spirit in you."

"But you wouldn't have had me betray that poor fellow, whom I believe to be innocent, Lady O'Hara," cried Nic, in choking voice, "and give him up to be flogged, and sent back to the chain gang?"

"Bedad, I wouldn't," cried the lady, turning very Irish, and dragging him to her, she gave him a sounding kiss. "I'd have called ye no boy of mine if ye had, and your mother wid the gyurls say the same, don't ye, my dears?"

"Oh yes," came in chorus.

"But it's all very wrong, Nic; I say so who am the governor's wife; and this black sheep-thayving convict of yours'll be coming and killing us all in our beds." _

Read next: Chapter 41. Right Wins

Read previous: Chapter 39. A Double Surprise

Table of content of First in the Field: A Story of New South Wales


GO TO TOP OF SCREEN

Post your review
Your review will be placed after the table of content of this book