Читать книгу The Outlaw - John David Hennessy - Страница 12

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"Chaps all right, Dan?" asked Jack, as they entered the shanty.

"Right as rain, captain, only a bit rusty for want of work."

"Well, drink some tea and eat something, and then we'll have a glass of grog and a smoke, and you can tell me the news. Riding Old Shiner, I see; looks as fit as a fiddle too—take off your saddle and swag, and I'll put him up in a handy paddock I have here, with Fleetfoot, while you get your feed. If any one happens to call in, say Mr. Bennett will be back in a few minutes. You know I am the schoolteacher here at present. Don't forget the name—Bennett."

Jack lit his pipe and sauntered off, with Old Shiner's rein over his arm; he wanted to think about this new turn of affairs before talking matters over with Dan Morley. He had made up his mind to one thing, whatever else might happen. He would meet the School Committee, put things straight with the scholars, have some friendly understanding with Betsy and the others, and then——

"Ah, and then," he said aloud, "and then probably the gallows! My God, no! I'll put a bullet through my head first. I wonder whether Dan has any news of the old man and my mother and Ruth. Good Lord, isn't life in this accursed country, with its brutal officialism, a detestable thing. Why could I not go on teaching school here, like an honest man?"

Jack had reached the paddock by this, and as he took down the slip-rails Old Shiner recognized Fleetfoot as a mate, and whinnied to him. He slipped off the bridle from the horse, which at once trotted over to Fleetfoot, who whinnied a welcome, and the two began to crop the grass together, side by side.

Jack put up the rails, and leaning on the top one, smoked his pipe out, still looking at the two animals. Old Shiner was out of an important sire on Major Glen's run. Dan Morley said he had bought him, fair and square, from a dealer. "He might have done so," thought Jack, "for if he is not very prepossessing in his looks, Dan is not a bad fellow at heart. I wish they had sent one of the other chaps; Dan's a sticker, and won't leave this settlement without me. He'll have to clear out for a bit, however; I can't have him hanging about the school-house. It may take me a week to get things straightened up."

Jack thought over a dozen things which he might do. He had managed to cover his tracks very cleverly in coming down to the Broadhaven Valley; why not send Dan back with a recommendation to the gang to make him their captain, and stay on himself as school-teacher? He could take Dan into his confidence, tell him that he was sick of an outlaw's life, and get him to tell the chaps that Jack Salathiel was dead, and advise them to disband. He would give up his share to them, and there would be a very fair amount to divide.

He looked at his watch and then up at the sun; it was mid-day, and the watch was old Squatter Downing's, of Musselbrook.

"Beggar the thing! what's the good of a curse like me trying to be an honest man? Fancy Jack Salathiel, ex-convict and one time bushranger, settling down to teach children sums, and writing, and reading, and—morality. I don't suppose Dan or any of the chaps would 'come it on me' down here; but there's the past to reckon with; it would be bound to crop up some time. 'Whatsoever a man sows that shall he also reap,' eh, Jack Salathiel?"

He turned at this and walked slowly back to the school-house. As he neared the teacher's dwelling, however, he heard voices. Some one was talking to Dan Morley. There was no mistaking the voice. It was Amos Gordon.

Jack paused to collect himself. They were evidently standing in front of the house under the veranda.

"You're a stranger in these parts, my son," he heard the old man say, "and if you are a friend of John Bennett's, let me tell you he is very much respected among the good people here."

Jack heard Dan reply that he was a bit of an acquaintance of the schoolmaster's; dropped in, casually like, to see him. He was on the look out for a bit of country to settle on. Dan's quick ear had heard Jack approaching, and he said this to give him a cue.

"Good day, Mr. Gordon," said Jack cordially, "glad to see you; hang up your horse and come in and have a drink of tea and a bite of something."

The schoolmaster and local preacher shook hands. "Your friend here," said old Amos, waiting for an introduction.

"Ah, just an acquaintance from Sydney side," stammered Jack.

"Mister—Flannigan, late of the Wollombi district," said Dan without a moment's hesitation.

"Glad to meet you, Mr. Flannigan. I've heard of the Wollombi, but never travelled as far; don't suppose I ever shall now. I'm getting to be an old man and have quite enough to do to keep old friendships in good repair."

Jack busied himself in straightening up the food on the rough table, and brewing a fresh billy of tea, while the two men sat down together and talked about the weather and the country. He earnestly hoped that Dan would have the good sense to clear off for a bit.

"I heard down at Polly McCarthy's that there had been a bit of a rumpus in the school this morning, so, as I was in the district, I thought I would ride up and talk the matter over with you."

Jack hesitated to reply. The presence of Dan embarrassed him; but Dan had just poured himself out another pannikin of tea and showed no sign of moving. The fact was that he thought it a good opportunity to hear something about the captain's career as a school-teacher, and he chuckled to himself as he thought of the roars of laughter the captain's clever impersonation would evoke among the fellows in the camp. It never occurred to Dan that Salathiel had taken the matter so seriously to heart, and he listened with the keenest interest to hear what had been going on all these weeks at the school.

"I thought that girl had been crying a bit, or something; nice girl too, and she was so interested in me when she knew who I wanted. I wonder now what the captain's been up to here. Making love to some of the pretty heifers of the district, perhaps. By gosh! the chaps used to say that he never looked at a woman; but he's been up to a bit of a game with the womenfolk down here, you bet."

Such was the trend of Dan's mental reflections; but when Jack gravely told Amos Gordon all that had happened, Dan opened his eyes, and decided in his mind that the captain had sustained his reputation for being the queerest cuss that ever turned bushranger.

"Don't you be a bit discouraged, friend schoolmaster," said the old man, when he had heard Jack's account of Mrs. Lord's visit and its unfortunate consequences. "You've the sympathy and respect of the people; the children are like a lot of unroped cattle, and you have got along wonderfully with them. Tot Gardiner is the biggest limb in the valley, but she's not bad at heart; and Bob Carey's like a young steer as doesn't know himself; I'll answer for it that by this time his father has given him the biggest hiding for offering to fight you before the children he ever had in his life. There's been a bit of sweethearting, I hear, between him and Tot Gardiner; but his mother doesn't approve of it, and they are neither of them much more than rising eighteen, and Tot says she wants a man to court her, and not a calf; so I think, schoolmaster, things will soon right themselves without giving you much trouble. You ride over and see Silas Stump, and get a School Committee meeting to-night, and have it settled off-hand. You'll have to cane some of them, my friend; I don't believe much in flogging, but you must maintain discipline, and the good old Book says, 'He that spareth the rod spoileth the child.' You'll have to take that rod down from the nail where they say you've hung it and rule your scholars with firmness and righteousness."

"The Committee will have to get another schoolmaster, old friend," said Jack; "you mean well, and your advice is no doubt good, but I'll never lift a hand to flog a fellow creature, in this flogging-cursed country, unless it is to flog a flogger, or some brutal Government official!"

Old Amos looked at the schoolmaster for a full half minute in much astonishment. The outburst had taken him completely by surprise.

"My good friend," said he, "you are wrong. 'Whom the Lord loveth He chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom He receiveth.' John Bennett, I love you for your good and tender heart, but I don't agree with you." He paused for a moment, and looked the schoolmaster full in the face. Jack's eyes fell before that calm, deep gaze. Old Gordon knew then that there was a sad past in this man's life; knew, in that moment, that he was talking to a man who had been a convict once. A bitter undertone gave the schoolmaster's words a deep significance.

"John Bennett," he repeated, and tears of memory glistened in his expressive eyes. "John Bennett, I love you for your good and tender heart." He drew himself up to his full height as he continued, "I too have been chastened, by permission of the good Lord, and it was not pleasant, but grievous. I've sinned, much like every other son of Adam; but I have loved much, as becometh a son of God. I never knowingly broke my country's laws; but these hands have been tied unjustly to the public flogging post, and these shoulders and back have bled and blistered beneath the brutal lash. I carry the scars of more than one such flogging, but the good Lord suffered greater pain and sorrow for the sake of you and me, and I bow my head submissively before Him. At one time the inhuman cruelty of ungodly men embittered my life and warped my judgment; but it don't now. Forgetting the things which are behind, I am reaching forward, schoolmaster, to the things which are before, and I press toward the mark for the prize. Let the dead past bury its dead, schoolmaster. I have told you and this good man a part of Amos Gordon's story. Let us say no more about it. Take up your life-work bravely, and do it fearlessly and honestly; as schoolmaster you are put over these youngsters in the place of their parents, as the representative of authority and justice, and to some degree, in the place of God. Punish wrongdoers in your school mercifully, and not in anger; make them respect you and the law, and reverence right; and they will grow up to thank and love you for it in the years to come...God bless you, my friend. Go you down and talk it over with Silas Stump and the Committee, schoolmaster, and keep your head and your heart up; you are doing a good work here, and the people of this Broadhaven Valley know it too."

The old man shook hands with them both, mounted his grey cob, and went off down the hill, leaving the two bushrangers puffing at their pipes in silence.

"Dan," said Jack, at last, "the old man has spoken the truth; but we are outlaws, and had better make a forget of it. If I could begin a new life, I would, but I can't. You may choose for yourself; I have a hundred pounds here in notes and gold; if you wish, I'll give it to you, and a fair discharge from the gang, and you can get away somewhere out of this and start afresh. I'll make it all right for you, fair and square, on the Liverpool Ranges."

"No, captain," said Dan, "I've come down here to take you back with me to the gang; they want you, and I won't go back on either you nor them, hang me if I will! Give me a glass of that grog you mentioned, and if you like to tell the chaps what old Gordon said, and they think well to disband, that's another matter."