Part 69 (1/2)

When some of the Parliaives anybody heard of it they began to buck, and no er that ever had been shopped in New South Wales had been hanged or kept in gaol till he died; nothing but petitions and letters to the papers; no end of bobbery The only paper that had a word to say on the side of a poor devil like me was the 'Turon Star' He said that 'dick Marston and his brother Jiht (who paid his debts at any rate, unlike soned their names to this petition), had worked s for over a year They were respected by all who knew theht have lived thenceforth a life of industry and honourable dealing He, for one, upheld the decision of the Chief Secretary Thousands of the Turon ence, would do the sa in the colony, and they tried it on all roads to get hi, and flattering, and preaching at him if such a notorious crio forth with a free pardon after a comparatively short--short, think of that, short!--ieneration, and so on

Theyback for a week or two till I was nearly drove o

Lucky for me it was, and for some other people as well, the Governor was one of thosebefore he says yes or no When he says a thing he sticks to it When he goes forward a step he puts his foot down, and all the blowing, and cackle, and yelping in the world won't shi+ft him

Whether the Chief Secretary would have takenwould have raised, and how near his Ministers--or whatever they call 'e with poor dick Marston, I can't tell Some people say he wouldn't Anyhow, he stuck to his word; and the Governor just said he'd given his decision about theit--which showed he knew so of the world, as well as intended to be true to his own opinions The whole thing blew over after a bit, and the people of the country soon found out that there wasn't such another Governor (barrin'

one) as the Queen had the sending out of

The day it was all settled the head gaoler comes to me, and says he, 'Richard Marston, the Governor and Council has been graciously pleased to order that you be discharged froaol upon the completion of twelve years of imprisonment; the ter reood conduct while in the said gaol You are now free!'

I heard it all as if it had been the parson reading out of a book about soain I hardly heard them, only the last word, free--free--free! What a blessed word it is! I couldn't say anything, or make a try to walk out I sat down onaoler walked over to h'took in' so often, he was cautious 'Coether It's a shake for you, I daresay, but you'll be all right in a day or so I believe you'll be another ive the lie to these fellows that say you'll be up to your old tricks in a ht; if you don't, you're not the ot up and steadied myself 'I thank you with all my heart, Mr----,'

I said 'I'm not much of a talker, but you'll see, you'll see; that's the best proof The fools, do they think I want to come back here? I wish some of them had a year of it'

As soon as there was a chance of row', as they call it in there That is, to leave off havingby the prison barber with his razor, that was soh to rasp the skin off you, particularly if it was a coldMy hair was let alone, too My clothes--the suit I was taken in twelve years ago--had been washed and cleaned and folded up, and put away and nuot 'em new just before I started away froht to me, and very well they looked, too I never had a suit that lasted that long before

That minds me of a yarn I heard at Jonathan Barnes's one day There was a young chap that they used to call 'Liverpool Jack' about then He was a free kind of fellow, and good-looking, and they all took to hi of him for about three years Then he came back, and as it was the busy season old Jonathan put hiave hiet a job

When the old man came in he says, 'Who do you think came up the road to-day?--Liverpool Jack He looked rather down on his luck, so I gave him a job to mend up the barn He's a handy felloonder he doesn't save more money He's a careful chap, too'

'Careful,' says Maddie 'How do ye make that out?'

'Why,' says Jonathan, 'I'ot the sao'

The oldHe'd been in the jug all the tie it seelass I hadn't done that lately I regularly started back; I didn't know , stout, brown-haired chap, full of life, and able to jump over a dray and bullocks almost I did once jump clean over a pair of polers for a lark

And hoas I going out? Anor the other, as if he couldn't be glad or sorry, with a fixed staring look about the eyes, a half-yellowish skin, with a lot of wrinkles in it, particularly about the eyes, and gray hair Big streaks of gray in the hair of the head, and as for my beard it hite--white I looked like an oldout at all?

When I went outside the walls by a saoler shook hands with me 'You're a free man now, dick,' he says, 'and reht to pull you up or lay a finger on you You're as independent as the best gentleht Re for you'

Sure enough there was a man that I knew, and that lived near Rocky Flat

He was a quiet, steady-going sort of farmer, and never would have no truck with us in our flash tiood sort of horse in it

'Co your way, and I proive you a lift hoain, and there's a fewdrive--o before ere near ho I could only feel as if I was being driven along the road to heaven after co whether it was possible that I was a freeback to life and friends and happiness Was it possible? Could I ever be happy again? Surely it must be a dream that would all melt away, and I'd wake up as I'd done hundreds of times and find myself on the floor of the cell, with the bare walls all round an to feel that queer and strange that I didn't knohich way to look It was co drop of rain, seerand What a ti, or summer, or winter! It didn't make ain with thinkin'

of as goin' on outside, and hoas caged up and like to be for an little by little to look the way they used to do long and long ago Noas an old overhanging limb that had arched over the road since ere boys; then there was a rock with a big kurrajong tree growing near it When we came to the turn off where we could see Nulla Mountain everything came back to me I seemed to have had two lives; the old one--then a time when I was dead, or next door to it--now this new life I felt as if I was just born

'We'll get down here now,' I said, e ca fence; 'it ain't far to walk That's your road'

'I'll run you up to the door,' says he, 'it isn't far; you ain't used to walking h the paddock up to the old hut