"Stop," said Ben, in an under-voice, and motioning the others to keep quiet, "maybe he's sleeping on the couch-chair in the house."

"I'll go and see," said Jones.

Cautiously he descended the stairs, terrified at every creak they made under his weight. Did he hear anything? No; it was only the pattering of the rain-drops outside. Stealthily he peeped into the kitchen; no one was there, the few smouldering ashes in the grate being the only token of recent occupation. So he went back to his friends in the chamber.

"Eh, see, what's here!" cried one of the men, in an agitated voice; "look on the floor."

They turned the light of the lantern on to the chamber-floor, and a strange sight indeed presented itself. Right across the room, in regular lines, were immense letters in red and black adhering to the boards.

"Ben, you're a scholar," said Jones; "read 'em."

Stone, thus appealed to, made the light travel slowly along the words, and read in a low and faltering voice,--

"_No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of G.o.d_."

Then he pa.s.sed on to the red letters, and the words were,--

"_Prepare to meet thy G.o.d_."

A deathlike stillness fell on the whole party, who had hitherto spoken in loud whispers. Terror seized the hearts of some, and bitter shame stung the consciences of others.

"We must get out of this as fast as we can," said Jones. "If we're taken roving about the house this fashion, we shall all be clapped in prison for housebreakers. Least said about this, mates, soonest mended.

We'd best hold our tongues. Old Tommy's clean outwitted us; he has for sure. Maybe it serves us right."

All made their way back as hastily as possible through the window, and separated to their several homes, only too glad to have escaped detection.

And what was become of Thomas Johnson? n.o.body could tell. When the morning arrived, old Jenny went to the house, but the door was locked.

A piece of furze, an old rag, and some black-looking stuff were found near the water-b.u.t.t at the back, but what they could have to do with Johnson's disappearance no one could say. He was, however, manifestly gone, and Betty too, for neither of them made their appearance that day.

The meeting was held, but no Thomas Johnson made his appearance at it, and his friends were lost in conjecture. But days and weeks pa.s.sed away, and nothing turned up to gratify or satisfy public curiosity in the matter. Jones never spoke of it to his wife or any one else, and the rest of the party were equally wise in keeping their own counsel as to the intended a.s.sault and its failure. The landlord of Johnson's house claimed the scanty furniture for the rent, and no one turned up to dispute the claim. So all traces of Thomas Johnson were utterly lost to Langhurst.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

FALLING AWAY.

And now we must leave the mystery for a future unravelling, and return to Abraham Oliphant and his guests at "The Rocks."

For several days Hubert and Frank remained with Mr Oliphant, riding out among the hills and into the town, as pleasure or business called them.

But an idle, objectless life was not one to suit Hubert; and Frank, of course, could not continue much longer as a guest at "The Rocks." It was soon settled that the nephew should a.s.sist his uncle, and Frank determined to look-out for a home. It was arranged that Jacob Poole should come to him as soon as he was settled, and in the meanwhile Mr Oliphant found the boy employment. Unfortunately for himself, Frank Oldfield was not in any way dependent for his living on his own exertions. His father allowed him to draw on him to the amount of three hundred pounds a year, so that, with reasonable care, he could live very comfortably, especially if he voluntarily continued the total abstinence which he had been compelled to practise on board ship. The reader is aware that he had never been a pledged abstainer at any time. Even when most overwhelmed with shame, and most anxious to regain the place he had lost in Mary Oliphant's esteem and affection, he would not take the one step which might have interposed a barrier between himself and those temptations which he had not power to resist, when they drew upon him with a severe or sudden strain. He thought that he was only a.s.serting a manly independence when he refused to be pledged, whereas he was simply just allowing Satan to cheat him with a miserable lie, while he held in reserve his right to commit an excess which he flattered himself he should never be guilty of; but which he was secretly resolved not to bind himself to forego. Thus he played fast and loose with his conscience, and was really being carried with the tide while he fancied himself to be riding safely at anchor. Had he then forgotten Mary? Had he relinquished all desire and hope of seeing her once more, and claiming her for his wife? No; she was continually in his thoughts.

His affection was deepened by absence and distance; but by a strange infatuation, spite of all that had happened in the past, he would always picture her to himself as his, irrespective of his own steadfastness and sobriety. He knew she would never consent to be a drunkard's wife, yet at the same time he would never allow himself to realise that he could himself forfeit her hand and love through the drunkard's sin. He would never look steadily at the matter in this light at all. He was sober now, and he took for granted that he should continue to be so. It was treason to himself and to his manhood and truth to doubt it. And so, when, after he had been about a month in the colony, he received a letter from Mrs Oliphant full of kindly expressions of interest and hopes that, by the time he received the letter, he would have formally enrolled himself amongst the pledged abstainers, he fiercely crumpled up the letter and thrust it from him, persuading himself that he was justly annoyed that the permanence of his sober habits should be doubted; whereas, in truth, the sting was in this, that the reading of the letter dragged out from some dark recess of his consciousness the conviction that, with all his high resolve and good intentions, he was standing on an utterly sandy foundation, and leaning for support on a brittle wand of gla.s.s. And thus he was but ill-fortified to wrestle with his special temptation when he settled down, a few weeks after his arrival, in a commodious cottage not very far from "The Rocks." His new dwelling was the property of a settler, who, having realised a moderate fortune, and wishing to have a peep at the old country, was glad to let his house for a term of three years at a reasonable rent. The rooms were small but very snug, the fittings being all of cedar, which gave a look of refinement and elegance to the interior. There were good stables, coach-house, and offices, and a well of the purest water--a great matter in a place where many had no water at all except what dropped from the heavens, or had to content themselves with brackish wells. There was a lovely garden, with everything in fruit and flower that could be desired; while, in the fields around, grew the aromatic gum, the canidia, or native lilac, with its cl.u.s.ters of purple blossoms, and the wattle, with its waving tufts of almond-scented flowers.

When Jacob joined his master in his Australian home, he hardly knew how to express his delight and admiration.

"Well, Jacob," said Frank, "you're likely to have plenty of fresh air and exercise if you stay with me. I shall want you to be gardener, groom, and valet. Mrs Watson,"--(a widow who had undertaken the situation of housekeeper)--"will look after the house, and the eatables and drinkables."

"Indeed, sir," said Jacob, "I'll do my best; but I shall have to learn, and you must excuse a few blunders at the first. I shall manage the garden well enough, I reckon, after a bit, though I'm not certain which way the roots of the flowers grows in these foreign parts;--the cherries, I see, has their stones growing outside on 'em, and maybe the roots of the flowers is out in the air, and the flowers in the ground.

As for the horses, I'm not so much of a rider; but I must stick to their backs, I reckon. They'll be rayther livelier, some on 'em, I suppose, nor our old pit horses, as hadn't seen daylight for ten years or more.

But as for being a wally, you must insense me into that, for I don't know anything about it. If it's anything to do with making beds or puddings, I have never had no knowledge of anything of the sort."

Frank was highly entertained at the poor boy's perplexity.

"Oh, never fear, Jacob; where there's a will there's a way--and I see you've got the will. I'll trust you to learn your gardening from Mr Oliphant's man at 'The Rocks.' You must go and get him to give you a lesson or two; and if the seeds should not come up at first, I must take it for granted that you've sown them wrong side upwards. As for the riding, I'll undertake myself to make you a good horseman in a very little time. So there's only one thing left, and that's the valet. You needn't be afraid of it; it's nothing whatever to do with making beds or puddings--that's all in Mrs Watson's department. What I mean by valet is a person who will just wait upon me, as you waited on Captain Merryweather on board ship."

"Oh, is that it!" cried Jacob, greatly relieved; "then I can manage it gradely, I haven't a doubt."

And he did manage it gradely. Never was there a more willing learner or trustworthy servant--his was the service of love; and every day bound him more and more firmly to his young master with the cords of devoted affection. Frank returned the attachment with all the natural warmth of his character. He delighted in the rough openness, which never degenerated into rudeness or disrespect; for Jacob, while free and unconstrained in his manner, instinctively knew his place and kept it.

There was also a raciness and good sense in his observations, which made Frank find in him a pleasant companion in their many wanderings, both on horse and on foot. Frank was always a welcome guest at "The Rocks,"

where he learned to value and reverence Abraham Oliphant, and to feel a hearty liking for his sons and daughters. But his heart was over the water, and he felt that he could never settle alone and without Mary in that far-off land. He often wrote to his mother, and also to Mary. To the latter he expressed himself full of hope that he should be able to return home before many years were pa.s.sed, and claim her for his own; but he never alluded to the cause of his temporary banishment, nor did he reply to the questions which she put to him on the subject of total abstinence, except by saying briefly that she might trust him, and need not fear.

"Jacob," he said one day, as he concluded a letter to his mother, "I believe the mail leaves to-day for England, and these letters ought to be in Adelaide by three o'clock. You shall ride in with them, and bring me out a 'Reporter.' By the way, isn't there any one in the old country you would like to write to yourself? Perhaps you do write, only I've never noticed you doing so!"

The colour flushed up into Jacob's face, as he replied, with some confusion and hesitation,--

"Well, you see, sir--why--I'm not so sure--well--truth to tell, in the first place, I'm not so much of a scholar."

"Ah, exactly," said his master; "but that need be no hindrance. I shall be very glad to write for you, if you don't want to send any secrets, and you'll only tell me what to say."

Jacob got very uneasy. The tears came into his eyes. He did not speak for several minutes. At last he said, with much emotion,--

"'Deed, sir, and you're very kind; but there's none as I care to write to gradely. There's them as should be all the world to me, but they're nothing to me now. I can't tell you just what it is; but it's even as I'm saying to you. There's one as I should have liked--ah, well--she'll be better without it. Thank you, sir; you're very kind indeed, but I won't trouble you."

Frank saw that there was a secret; he had therefore too much delicacy of feeling to press Jacob any further; so he merely said,--

"Well, at any time, if you like me to write home, or anywhere else for you, I shall be glad to do so. And now you'd better be off. Take little Silvertail; a canter will do her good. I shall ride Roderick myself up through the gully. You may tell Mrs Watson not to bring tea in till she sees me, as I may be late."

Jacob was soon off on his errands, and his master proceeded slowly up the hilly gorge at the back of his house.

"There's some mystery about Jacob," he said to himself; as he rode quietly along; "but I suppose it's the case with a great many who come to these colonies. 'Least said, soonest mended,' is true, I fancy, in a great many cases."

It was a lovely afternoon. The sun was pouring forth a blaze of light and heat, such as is rarely experienced out of tropical countries. And yet, when the heat was most intense, there was an elasticity about the air which prevented any feeling of oppression or exhaustion.

The road wound up through quaint-looking hills, doubled one into another, like the upturned knuckles of some gigantic hand. Every now and then, at a bend in the track, the high lands, sloping away on either side, disclosed the distant town lying like a child's puzzle on the plain, with the shadowy flats and dim ocean in the far background. By overshadowing rocks and down sudden steeps the road kept its irregular course; and now it would cleave its way along a mile of table-land, elevated above a perfect ocean of trees on either side, which seemed as though human hand or foot had never trespa.s.sed on their sombre solitude.

Yet, every here and there the marks of destruction would suggest thoughts of man's work and presence. Whole tracts of forest would be filled with half-charred trunks, the centres black and hollowed out, the upper parts green and flourishing as ever.

Nothing, for a time, broke the silence of Frank's solitary ride, as he made his way along the serpentine road rising still higher and higher, and every now and then emerging upon broader and broader views of the plains and ocean beyond them, while the interlocking hills beneath his feet had dwindled down into a row of hillocks like funeral mounts in some t.i.tanic graveyard. And now, as he paused in admiration to gaze on the lovely view spread out before him, he felt the burning heat relieved for a moment by a flying cloud; he looked upward--it was a flight of the yellow-crested c.o.c.katoo, which pa.s.sed rapidly on with deafening screeches. A while after, and a flock of the all-coloured parakeet sped past him like the winged fragments of a rainbow. Look where he would, all was beautiful: the sky above, a pure Italian blue--the distant ocean sparkling--the lands of the plain smiling in peaceful sunshine--the hills on all sides quaint and fantastic--the highlands around him thick with their forests--the sward, wherever trees were thickly scattered, enamelled with flowers of the brightest scarlet. Oh, how sad that sin should mar the beauties with which the hand of G.o.d has so lavishly clothed even this fallen world.

Frank's heart was filled with a delight that ascended into adoration of the Great Creator; then tenderer thoughts stole over him--thoughts of home, thoughts of the hearts which loved him still, spite of the past.

Oh, how his spirit yearned for a sight of the loved and dear familiar faces he had left behind in the old but now far-off land! Tears filled his eyes, and he murmured something like a prayer. It was but for a little while, however, that thoughts like these kept possession of his heart; for he was brought rudely back to things before him by the rapid sound of horses' feet. The next moment, round a turn of the road came a saddled horse without a rider, the broken bridle dangling from its head.

"Stop her, if you please," cried a young lady, who was following at the top of her speed.

Frank immediately crossed the path of the runaway animal, and succeeded in catching it.

"I hope you have not been thrown or hurt," he said, as he restored it to its owner.

"Oh no, thank you," she replied. "I'm so much obliged to you. We--that is, some friends and myself--are up in these hills to-day, on a picnicking excursion. My mare was hung up to a tree, and while we were looking after the provisions, she broke her bridle and got off."