Part 3 (2/2)

”The leddies from Gangoil, Giles, have been guid enough to ride over and see me,” said his mother.

Medlicot, of course, shook hands with them, and expressed his sense of their kindness, but he did it awkwardly. He soon, however, declared his purpose of riding part of the way back with them.

”Mr. Heathcote must have been very wet last night,” he said, when they were on horse-back, addressing himself to Kate Daly rather than to her sister.

”Indeed he was--wet to the skin. Were you not?”

”I saw him at about eleven, before the rain began. I was close home, and just escaped. He must have been under it all. Does he often go about the run in that way at night?”

”Only when he's afraid of fires,” said Kate.

”Is there much to be afraid of? I don't suppose that any body can be so wicked as to wish to burn the gra.s.s.” Then the ladies took upon themselves to explain. ”The fires might be caused from negligence or trifling accidents, or might possibly come from the unaided heat of the sun; or there might be enemies.”

”My word! yes; enemies, rather!” said Jacko, who was riding close behind, and who had no idea of being kept out of the conversation merely because he was a servant. Medlicot, turning round, looked at the lad, and asked who were the enemies.

”Free-selectors,” said Jacko.

”I'm a free-selector,” said Medlicot.

”Did not jist mean you,” said Jacko.

”Jacko, you'd better hold your tongue,” said Mrs. Heathcote.

”Hold my tongue! My word! Well, you go on.”

Medlicot came as far as the wool-shed, and then said that he would return. He had thoroughly enjoyed his ride. Kate Daly was bright and pretty and winning; and in the bush, when a man has not seen a lady perhaps for months, brightness and prettiness and winning ways have a double charm. To ride with fair women over turf, through a forest, with a woman who may perhaps some day be wooed, can be a matter of indifference only to a very lethargic man. Giles Medlicot was by no means lethargic. He owned to himself that though Heathcote was a pig-headed a.s.s, the ladies were very nice, and he thought that the pig-headed a.s.s in choosing one of them for himself had by no means taken the nicest.

”You'll never find your way back,” said Kate, ”if you've not been here before.”

”I never was here before, and I suppose I must find my way back.”

Then he was urged to come on and dine at Gangoil, with a promise that Jacko should return with him in the evening. But this he would not do. Heathcote was a pig-headed a.s.s, who possibly regarded him as an incendiary simply because he had bought some land. This boy of Heathcote's, whose services had been offered to him, had not scrupled to tell him to his face that he was to be regarded as an enemy. Much as he liked the company of Kate Daly, he could not go to the house of that stupid, arrogant, pig-headed young squatter. ”I'm not such a bad bushman but what I can find my way to the river,” he said.

”Find it blindful,” said Jacko, who did not relish the idea of going back to Medlicot's Mill as guide to another man. There was a weakness in the idea that such aid could be necessary, which was revolting to Jacko's sense of bush independence.

They were standing on their horses at the entrance to the wool-shed as they discussed the point, when suddenly Harry himself appeared out of the building. He came up and shook hands with Medlicot, with sufficient courtesy, but hardly with cordiality, and then asked his wife as to her ride. ”We have been very jolly, haven't we, Kate? Of course it has been hot, but every thing is not so frightfully parched as it was before the rain. As Mr. Medlicot has come back so far with us, we want him to come on and dine.”

”Pray do, Mr. Medlicot,” said Harry. But again the tone of his voice was not sufficiently hearty to satisfy the man who was invited.

”Thanks, no: I think I'll hardly do that.--Good-night, Mrs.

Heathcote; good-night. Miss Daly;” and the two ladies immediately perceived that his voice, which had hitherto been pleasant in their ears, had ceased to be cordial.

”I am very glad he has gone back,” said Heathcote.

”Why do you say so, Harry? You are not given to be inhospitable, and why should you grudge me and Kate the rare pleasure of seeing a strange face?”

”I'll tell you why. It's not about him at this moment; but I've been disturbed.--Jacko, go on to the station, and say we're coming. Do you hear me? Go on at once.” Then Jacko, somewhat unwillingly, galloped off toward the house. ”Get off your horses, and come in.”

He helped the two ladies from their saddles, and they all went into the wool-shed, Harry leading the way. In one of the side pens, immediately under the roof, there was a large heap of leaves, the outside portion of which was at present damp, for the rain had beaten in upon it, but which had been as dry as tinder when collected; and there was a row or ridge of mixed brush-wood and leaves so constructed as to form a line from the gra.s.s outside on to the heap.

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