Читать книгу Botany Bay, True Tales of Early Australia - Lang John - Страница 10

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Riding away from Fisher's late abode, Mr. Cox was somewhat perplexed. That power of attorney, drawn up so formally, and signed by Fisher in the presence of such credible witnesses, and then the letter written, signed in the same way by the same hand, were all in favour of the presumption that Fisher had gone to England, leaving his friend and neighbour, Smith, in charge of his property, real and personal. But then, there were the remains! And that they were the remains of Fisher, Mr. Cox firmly believed. When he had returned to the pond, by a circuitous route, Mr. Cox ordered the blacks to strip from a bluegum tree, with their tomahawks, a large sheet of bark. Upon this the remains were placed, carried straightaway to Fisher's house (Mr. Cox, upon horseback, heading the party) and placed on the verandah. While this proceeding was in progress Mr. Smith came out and wore upon his countenance an expression of surprise, astonishment, wonder. But there was nothing in that. The most innocent man in the world would be surprised, astonished, and in wonderment on beholding such a spectacle.

"What is this, Mr. Cox?" he said.

"The last that I have heard and seen of Mr. Fisher," was the reply. "Of Mr. Fisher, sir!"

"Yes."

"These were his old clothes," said Mr. Smith, examining them carefully; "most certainly this was the old suit he used to wear. But as for the body, it can't be his; for he is alive, as you have seen by his letter. These old clothes he must have given away, as he did many other old things, the day before he left this; and the man to whom he gave 'em must have been murdered."

"Do you think he could have given away this knife?" said David Weir. "To my knowledge, he had it for better than twelve years, and often have I heard him say he would not part with it for £50."

"Give it away? Yes!" said Smith. "Didn't he give away his old saddle and bridle? Didn't he give away his old spurs? Didn't he give away a cow and a calf?"

"He was a good man, and an honest man, and a very fair dealing man, and in his latter days a very righteous and godly man, but he was not a giving-away man by any manner of means," returned old David.

"And if he gave away these boots," said Hamilton, "they were a very good fit for the man who received them."

"This man, whoever he is, was murdered, no doubt," said Mr. Smith, with the most imperturbable countenance and the coolest manner. "Just look at this crack in his skull, Mr. Cox."

"Yes, I have seen that," said the magistrate.

"And that's where poor Fisher's ghost had it," said old David.

"Fisher's ghost!" said Mr. Smith. "What do you mean, Weir?"

"Why, the ghost that I have twice seen sitting on the rail not far from the old bridge at the bottom of the hill yonder."

"Ghost! You have seen a ghost, have you?" returned Mr. Smith, giving Mr. Cox a very cunning and expressive look. "Well, I have heard that ghosts do visit those who have sent them out of this world, and I dare say Mr. Cox has heard heard the same. Now, if I had been you, I'd have held my tongue about a ghost (for ghosts are only the creatures of our consciences) for fear of being taken in charge."

"I taken in charge!" said old Weir. "No, no! My conscience is clear, and what I've seen and said I'll swear to. Wherever I go I'll talk about it up to my dying hour. That was the ghost of Mr. Fisher that I saw, and these are the remains of his body."

"If I were Mr. Cox, a magistrate," said Mr. Smith, "I would give you in charge."

"I will not do that, Mr. Smith," replied Mr. Cox. "I feel that my duty compels me to give you in custody of this police officer."

"For what, sir?"

"On a charge of wilful murder. Hamilton!"

"Yes, sir."

"Manacle Mr. Smith and take him to Penrith."

Mr. Smith held up his wrists with the air of an injured and pure-minded man, who was so satisfied of his innocence that he was prepared for the strictest investigation into his conduct and had no dread as to the result.