CHAPTER XIX.
THE CAPTURE.
It often occurred to Charlie, as well as Donald, that Captain Melrose of bushranging notoriety, was identical with Melrose of Edinburgh and London repute, but it never occurred to them that Williams his lieutenant, was Donald's accuser, and who was the cause of his transportation.
Donald's recognition of him was instantaneous, notwithstanding Williams's altered appearance; for, on going to the stable with the horses, he heard Williams conversing with the groom, and saw the haste he was in in preparing the horses for a start as soon as the marriage ceremony was over; he therefore concluded that all was not right, and without making himself known, watched Williams's movements, and on the same plea of hurry to start, had his horses ready also.
Williams, who was on the alert, evidently expecting the pursuit, never went within doors, but watched every direction, leading the horses about, while the carriage was being got ready. On Donald leading his horses from the stable ready saddled, he saw Melrose rush from the house; on coming up to Williams, he said, "Mount and be off, we are sold," when both started off at full speed; but their former bush tactics were of no avail to them this time, for notwithstanding their twisting and turning, clearing logs and creeks, they could not shake off their intrepid pursuers. The chase now became exciting in the extreme, each horseman was employing all his skill, and was straining his horse to its utmost speed, but it soon became evident that the bushrangers were overmatched, as their pursuers were gaining upon them every moment, when coming upon some open ground, Melrose wheeled round, exclaiming with a fearful oath—"We'll fight them, Williams, there are only two against two;" he then fired at Charlie, who was nearest to him, the ball penetrating Charlie's hat.
Before he had time to draw his second pistol, Charlie shot his horse through the heart, wishing to take Melrose alive, who, on coming to earth with his horse, got entrapped, having one leg fast under the carcase.
Charlie sprung from his saddle to disarm him, but on approaching him, received the other charge in his left side, which made him stagger, but the ball fortunately glanced off his powder flask, which he carried in the breast pocket of his coat. "Shoot me, you villain, you have a charmed life," roared the disappointed bushranger; but his captor refused the demand, and secured him on the spot.
The combat between the other two did not last so long, for on exchanging shots, Williams fell wounded, and became an easy captive to his active antagonist.
A party of troopers who were scouring the neighbourhood, through the information of Mr. Ramsey, were attracted by the firing, and made for the spot, when the bushrangers were handed over to their charge.
On Charlie's return to Mr. Forbes', a scene presented itself which was heartrending to behold. Miss Forbes, who a short time before was in the height of happiness, was now the picture of despair as she lay upon her couch. The family, who had been congratulating her so recently, were now bewailing her approaching end in the noontide of her youth and beauty, and heaping execrations on the head of the destroyer of their peace. The clergyman, who had come to solemnise her marriage, was now engaged in administering to her dying moments.
On seeing Charlie return, she feebly beckoned to him; when he approached her, she whispered in his ear, "you have not taken his life?" Charlie told her that he had not, but that he had secured him. She then replied—"Thanks, I shall now die happy. I feared that you, above all others, should stain your hands with his blood, since you were the saviour of our family from disgrace; but alas! you are unable to save my life, which is as well, I hope. Farewell, may your life be longer and happier than mine." She then called around to her the weeping family, and after an affecting adieu, breathed her last.
The excitement manifested on the apprehension and trial of the bushrangers had never been equalled in the colony. Crowds of spectators flocked from all parts to cheer and congratulate the brave captors and their deliverers from such a scourge, while execrations were heaped on the heads of the merciless malefactors.
The court was crowded to suffocation, while a large number who could not obtain admission, awaited with great anxiety the issue of the trial. A number of witnesses from all parts appeared to identify the prisoners, and to connect them with the several robberies committed by the band; but the extraordinary skill exhibited by Melrose in cross-examining the witnesses threatened to defeat the ends of justice, were it not for Charlie Stuart's knowledge of his previous character. The appeal which Melrose made to the jury in defending his own case, had never been equalled for forensic eloquence in a colonial court of justice. The effect of this was, that many who had hailed his approaching doom were now moved to pity him.
The judge, however, partly dispelled the effects of this extraordinary oration, by telling the jury that their duty was simple justice, and that they were not to be influenced by the talent displayed by the prisoner, which, instead of improving his case, would only aggravate it, if they considered that the charges brought against him were proved. The jury at once found both guilty, and sentence of death was passed upon them, on hearing which, Melrose exclaimed—"The gallows is not erected, neither is the rope manufactured,—which will hang me."
This was, indeed, true, for the next morning he was found dead in his cell, having strangled himself with his necktie.
The following was found, written upon the wall of the cell:—"Charlie Stuart, nor any other person, shall have the satisfaction of seeing me swing. They will find me with a smile of contempt upon my lips. The fates have been against me, being twice crossed in love by my conqueror. After being deprived of one, I never thought that he would present himself and prove a stumbling-block in my way of gaining the second, whom I truly loved, but who is now, through me, no more."