CHAPTER XVII.
THE FREE PARDON.
We left Charlie just as he was proceeding on his voyage from New Zealand to Sydney in better circumstances; but although his purse was in a most flourishing state, his mind was far from being happy at the sad and mournful death of Pamul. The unfortunate cause of her early death preyed on his mind, and a feeling of self-accusation disturbed his rest when thinking of her.
His brave and noble protectress, whose quick and fertile mind he had taken so much pains to cultivate, had been ruthlessly torn away in the bloom of youth. He almost wished that he had been lost with his companions, rather than be the unconscious cause of her untimely end. These were the thoughts which harrassed his mind during the voyage to Sydney, until the vessel entered that magnificent harbour.
A ship, apparently from England, was entering at the same time, and Charlie, on looking through his glass, observed among the females on board one who, if not her, was the very image of Mary Grant. His mind was instantly besieged by a crowd of hopes that it might be really her, and that Bella and her father were on board as well. He now levelled his glass, and took a view of the male passengers, but could not discover his faithful servant among them, which strengthened his hope that Bella was there.
As soon as the anchors of both vessels were dropped, he hired a boat to take him on board the ship. Reaching the ship, he climbed her side, and sprang eagerly on deck. On approaching the group of females, who seemed glad to see the first visitor to the ship after their long voyage, he saw he had not been mistaken, for there stood Mary Grant, who however, did not recognise him in his full-grown beard and moustache. But, as soon as she heard his voice mentioning her name, she started in astonishment, and then embraced him.
The impatient Charlie could not get nearer the object of his mission during the outburst of her surprise, but, on recollecting herself, she said, "Won't Mr. McKay be glad? I'll go and tell him." Suiting the action to the word, she ran into the cabin, leaving Charlie in the same uncertainty, but more confirmed in his hopes. However, the illusion was soon dispelled, on his seeing emerge from the cabin, not his neighbour, but Mr. McKay, of London, who appeared delighted on meeting with Charlie.
A shade of disappointment passed over Charlie's countenance on seeing Mr. McKay, but this was instantly banished by the warm and hearty reception he received. Mr. McKay then told him of Lord Lundy's villany, and how his malicious inventions were found out, which had been the primary cause of the death of Bella's father. He then related the account of Charlie's supposed loss, of Bella's suffering, and of her determination to be faithful to his memory.
Mary Grant filled up any little intervals, and increased Charlie's happiness by the account she gave of Bella's constancy; but her own misfortunes, which she fully related, occupied the principal place in her mind. She then gave Charlie, Donald's free pardon, he thought that he would be more likely to find him out.
Charlie was greatly grieved at the fate of Donald, and congratulated Mary on being the bearer of his emancipation.
On entering into partnership with Mr. McKay, Charlie resolved upon taking up some grazing land, and for the purpose of stocking it, he entered into an engagement with a wealthy old colonist—a Mr. Wilson, (whose private residence was near Sydney, but who had an extensive estate about 100 miles distant), for the purchase of a herd of cattle, as he owned the best breed in the colony.
Having arrived at Mr. Wilson's estate, which was managed by that gentleman's brother, the cattle he was about to purchase were ordered to be collected, as they were at a place named Muroo, about ten miles distant, where Charlie first saw an Australian cattle muster. The first signal of the approaching mob, while he and Mr. Wilson were waiting at the stockyard, was the loud cracking of the stockwhips, then the shouting of the stockriders, intermixed with the rumbling noise of the galloping herd tearing through the forest. Shortly after this clouds of dust which enveloped the leading herd, were seen; they soon entered the stockyard, the men being busily engaged in running in the stragglers. Among these was one of an inferior breed of bulls, called by stockmen Scrubbers or Rushians, which for a long time had evaded the death-warrant that hung over him, for whenever he approached the yard he managed to effect his escape. At this time, after baffling all his pursuers (except one) by charging them and then rushing off, he began to show signs of distress and control to his solitary pursuer, who with his stockwhip had inflicted a severe punishment upon him.
Mr. Wilson asked the stockman who it was that was following the bull, when he was told that it was Highland Donald. "Ah," replied Mr. Wilson exultingly; "now there is a chance of getting hold of that brute," and turning to Charlie added, "Yonder is a countryman of yours, and although not two years after stock, there is not his equal on the run, and I would sooner trust him than many of the free men."
"Poor fellow," replied Charlie, "he is a prisoner then—a rare thing among Highlanders."
"He is," added Mr. Wilson, "but I cannot help believing that he is quiet innocent of the crime he was charged with."
The conversation was interrupted by the approach of the humbled bull, who entered the yard submissively, and his pursuer on coming up proved to be Donald Munro, the piper.
At this moment an individual (who could not boast of his good looks) and who, by his bearing and talk, Charlie took to be the head stockman, strutted up to Mr. Wilson.
"Well, Griffin," exclaimed Mr. Wilson, "everything right and ready?"
"All right, Sir, except that Highland Donald ruining his hoss for the sake of that scrubber. I've a mind to pull him before Paddy Plunkett first coort day. Fifty lashes are too little for him."
"More charges, Griffin? surely getting hold of that bull is of far more value than the price of a horse. If that is the only charge you have to bring against the best stockman on the place, I shall take no further notice of it."
Griffin seemed quite crest-fallen at this rebuke, and replied maliciously:—"But you must remember, sir, that he is always giving me impudent answers, and is constantly disobeying my orders."
Charlie, who was listening to these trifling charges, could no longer bear to hear his old servant abused, replied provokingly:—"It appears to me, Mr. Griffin that you have already a good supply of impudence without giving you any more." This well-timed and merited cut sent Mr. Wilson into a fit of laughter on looking at Griffin's abashed countenance, as he muttered some unintelligible curses at the swell whom he had no doubt was a J.P.
Donald, who did not recognise Charlie, was ordered by Mr Wilson to lead the two horses to a small yard a short distance off. Charlie, thinking this was a good opportunity to make himself known without the spectators cognizance, followed Donald on the plea of getting a parcel off the saddle.
The happiness which the innocent convict experienced on meeting with Charlie, and the fact of his having his free pardon, was great.
Charlie then told Donald of the charges Griffin had brought against him, when he exultingly exclaimed—"Ah! the villian, won't I serve him out now.
It was agreed between them to return to the yard at once, and for the present to keep the recognition and the free pardon secret.
On their return Griffin was ineffectually endeavouring to draft the cattle, which proceeding was constantly interrupted by the attacks of the bull before-mentioned, which sent him in hot haste up the rails at every charge. On seeing Donald, Griffin roared out with his usual oath commanding the former to jump in and help to draft, which was done with a smile.
After once more compelling Griffin to seek refuge on the side rails, the beast faced Donald, who, with the greatest unconcern, awaited the attack, and as the enraged animal lowered his head to toss him, he struck him a heavy blow on his head with a stout drafting stick which felled him.
This feat brought a cheer of admiration from the spectators, when the animal was instantly dispatched and dragged out of the yard. The troublesome beast having been got rid of, Griffin advanced boldly to prosecute the work, when Donald stopped up to him with a provoking smile and said—"Mr. Punch, you had better hand me that stick, or the drafting will never be finished."
On hearing himself addressed by his nickname, Griffin drew up the stick with all his might to strike the speaker, who nimbly leaped on one side, and thus evaded a blow which would, in all probability have killed him, and the force of which brought the assailant on his face on the ground. Munro instantly sprung upon him, and seizing him by the collar and belt, carried him to the side of the yard, and with one heave, pitched him into an adjoining yard, which was used as a deposit for filth and refuse.
The spectators, who were mostly prisoners or ticket-of-leave holders, stood amazed at the idea of a prisoner committing such an assault on an overseer, although they all thoroughly enjoyed the well-deserved humiliation which Griffin had met with, as he had been for a long time an object of their hatred through his tyrannical behaviour, while Donald was always held in great respect by them. The sorrow they felt was great, for they knew that a severe punishment was always inflicted in such cases.
As soon as the half-smothered Griffin had cleared himself of the mud, he burst forth in a torrent of rage, demanding at once the apprehension of the offender, who was to be given in charge, and brought before the magistrates the first court-day. This just and undisputed demand Mr. Wilson could not with propriety refuse, which, if allowed to pass, would prove a dangerous precedent.
He therefore ordered the ticket-of-leave men present to seize Donald, and hand him over to the constable at the homestead.
Munro threatened to serve the first person who would lay a hand on him in the same manner he had served Griffin, when knowing his strength, not one of them dared approach him, which aggravated the case against him and obliged Mr. Wilson to command all present to secure the culprit.
On this peremptory order being given, Donald was instantly surrounded, when Charlie Stuart, with evident authority stepped up exclaiming in a stern voice:—"Lay not a hand on that man; Donald Munro is a free man!" These words acted like an electric shock on the spectators who sprung back from their intended prisoner, when Charlie, to prove his assertion, produced the free pardon, and the Colonial Gazette, containing a copy of the same.
Munro was now surrounded by eager and smiling faces, and many were the congratulations he received on his emancipation.
The only person who appeared disappointed at the announcement was Griffin, who at once lost caste among them; Mr. Wilson told him he should not require his services in future, and offered the situation to Donald, with an increased salary. Donald thanked Mr. Wilson, but respectfully declined, saying that he would never serve another man so long as Charlie could find employment for him.