He pressed his horse forward as these last thoughts came, until he was again progressing at a long swinging gallop. He had been some three or four times to Black Rock, but not by this road, which was not familiar to him; but, keeping to the track, he pressed on till it seemed to end in a stony wilderness, when he once more had to draw rein; for the rugged path required careful riding. Here the track seemed almost lost; but just in front two valleys opened out, and in his directions his host had told him to take the left--no, the right--no, the left. Was it to the left? His head must be weak and confused, he told himself; for the settler had explained exactly and carefully the route he should follow.

He grew excited as he recalled the importance of his making speed, and at last drew up, pained and troubled. He essayed to go a little way along the valley to the right, but in a doubtful fashion; and, drawing rein at the end of a mile, he rode hastily back, feeling a.s.sured that he was wrong; and on reaching the headland that separated the valleys, he urged his steed onward, peering eagerly in advance the while, in search of some tokens of civilised man.

He was angry with himself for the mistake he had made--wasting minutes that might prove to have been of inestimable value; but he felt that he must soon reach the settlement now, since it was situated in the bottom of the valley, and could not be missed even by a traveller by night.

On past long park-like sweeps of rich land, varied by portions where the valley closed in till huge nestling crags, crowned with glorious vegetation, made darker the way he traversed, and seemed threatening to topple over upon the traveller; but still no signs of civilisation: no shepherd's hut, no folding hurdles, no cattle--all solitary and grand.

Twice the idea occurred to him that he must, after all, be wrong; but he rejected or crushed down the thought, and hurried his horse along; for it had begun to show signs of fatigue.

Then Mr Meadows allowed the reins to fall upon the poor beast's neck, while he tried to think out the best course to pursue.

But little reflection sufficed to make him understand his position--he had been mistaken in the route he was to have pursued. He sighed heavily as he acknowledged his failing; for it was but too true. With Katie Lee in the hands of the convicts, and that young man awaiting the succour he was to bring, he had wandered from the right path, and travelled miles upon miles out of his way.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

COLLECTING THE LEVY.

John Lawler barricaded his place as strongly as he could for the night; and then, with loaded gun and rifle by his side, he awaited the return of the messengers. He felt that there was not much cause for fear; but he determined to watch and wait.

Soon after reaching the hospitable place, Mrs Lee had sunk back in her chair, faint and exhausted.

It was anxious work for the master of the house, watching alone, with the knowledge that a terrible danger might at any time come upon his home. As the darkness came on, sounds, heretofore pa.s.sed unnoticed, seemed to have an ominous import. Each time a dog barked the watcher started, and tried to pierce the distant gloom, seeing in every tree an enemy, and a lurker behind every bush.

After a while, watching in the silence, he started; for his wife had stolen to his side, begging to be allowed to stay with him, since Mrs Lee slept heavily, and she feared to be alone.

John Lawler tried to persuade her to go; but not energetically. And then the couple watched on, shivering at every sound, until there came, from a distance, the tramp of a horse, at a slow weary pace; and at last one of the settler's own beasts made its way into the yard, and then into the familiar stable by the side.

Lawler went out, to find that the animal was saddled and bridled; but on leading it into the yard, he found that it halted on one of its forelegs.

"Must have fallen lame," he muttered; "and Sam has gone on, thinking the poor brute would find its way back."

Another hour's watching, and then came again the slow pacing of a horse; but this time there was a man leading it; and upon his coming up, Lawler heard that the horse had stumbled in the dark, fallen, and thrown his rider heavily, the poor fellow having been hardly able to make his way back to the station.

Then came more watching, hour after hour, till daylight began to chase away the dim shadows of night.

John Lawler's spirits rose as the sun sent its warm rays once more over the brightened earth; but he shuddered as he thought that perhaps that night the home that he had been years in winning from the wilderness might become a blackened ruin.

Hour after hour pa.s.sed but no gathering party of neighbours cl.u.s.tered round; and though Lawler climbed from time to time the hill behind his house, there was no sign of Sam.

After all these hours, surely, he thought, some neighbours might have come down to his help. Supposing that his place had been attacked, it would have been by this time a heap of blood-stained ashes. His brow knit as he watched, here for enemies, there for friends, with none to meet his eye, and the lines on his brow told the inquietude of his mind.

At last, maddened with anxiety, he summoned his wife, had the two lamed beasts and Mr Meadow's pony brought out, and prepared to mount the two women, and flee farther inland, to where there were friends.

"I'd stop and fight to the last gasp for my bit of property, Nell," said Lawler to his wife, "if it wasn't for you and the child."

"No, no; let's go," she replied, as if fearing that he might stay.

The few arrangements being made, the little caravan had prepared to start, when a cheery shout from the men made Lawler shade his eyes, and his heart leapt up as he saw two mounted men, each carrying a gun, come cantering up.

"Hallo!" exclaimed one. "Just off out--pilgrimage to Egypt, eh? And Mrs Lee, too! How are you all? Bad job, though; for we wanted a rest and feed for the horses. S'pose we can have that all the same?"

John Lawler laid his hand upon the saddle of the speaker, and looking wonderingly in his face, he said:

"What! didn't the news reach you last night?"

"News?" echoed the other.

Lawler drew him down, and whispered in his ear, so that the drooping woman upon the horse should not hear again of the horrors that had devastated her home.

"Good G.o.d!" exclaimed the new-comer. "But have you sent out for help?"

"Yes," said Lawler; "three messengers. One miscarried; and I've had no news yet of the others."

A short conference was held as the new-comers, with darkened brows, learned more fully the state of affairs, and discussed it with John Lawler--earnestly, too, since each had a stake in the district, and knew full well that his might be the next turn to suffer as had suffered the family of Martin Lee.

Five minutes after, Lawler's wife was clinging to him, begging that, for the child's sake, he would accompany her to a place of safety; but although torn to the heart, the settler held firm. In a short consultation, it had been decided to let the women proceed, accompanied by Lawler's crippled man, while the three remained to garrison the little farm, and cover the retreat of the fugitives, agreeing that, if hard pressed, they could but follow them.

"We must stay and help one another," said Lawler gloomily. "You attend to poor Lee's wife; we'll see if we cannot save his child."

"But could not he stay?" said his wife piteously, as she pointed to the man.

"Would you have your husband turn coward, Nell?" Lawler said gently.

"Should we not say that man was contemptible who kept back from us in time of need? Be a woman! There will be help soon; and it would never do now for neighbours to come at my asking, and find me gone. Half an hour ago it was different, and there was good excuse; now there is none."

Mrs Lawler uttered no complaint; only one sob rose from her breast as she hung on her husband's neck; and then, with the man leading the horses, the party pa.s.sed slowly out of sight.

"Heaven be praised!" said one of the new-comers. "One seems free to act now."

After a little consideration, it was determined that nothing better could be done than for one of the party in turn to act as scout, and watch the ravine leading towards the Gap, the only way by which danger could approach; while the others patiently waited the succour that was expected.

STORY THREE, CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

THE START.

Hour after hour the little rescuing party waited for further a.s.sistance; for sooner or later they well knew that there would be a strong gathering; but night was fast approaching before two hors.e.m.e.n were seen; and of these one, Mr Meadows, had to be lifted from his horse, and then supported into the house.

"Better soon, friends all," he said feebly. "I've been hard tried lately." And then he sank into a chair, and would have fainted, but for some brandy. "I've proved a sorry messenger, friend Lawler," he said after a pause. "You see, I was a good deal knocked about at the Nest, and I took the wrong track, and was lost; and, but for my horse, I fear there would have been no help through me. I was confused and weak, and not myself; but don't be hard upon me."

"I came on with him directly," said the fresh arrival; "and I've sent round in all directions; but it will be some hours before more help can come."

But still this was a reinforcement; for the settler was well armed, and loaded with ammunition; while, just as it grew dark, there came the sharp "thud, thud" of horses' hoofs, and Lawler's first messenger hastily came up with three neighbours, armed, and eager to a.s.sist.

"The mare fell lame," said the man, "before we'd gone three miles; so I turned her loose, and tramped it."

"And I was cattle-driving," said one. "And I at the sheep-station,"