"Say? I won"t go! I can"t! I won"t! Oh, grannie, don"t send me there--I would rather die."
"My dear child, I would not be willing to part with you under any circ.u.mstances, but I cannot interfere between a mother and her child. I would not have allowed any one to do it with me, and believe in acting the same towards any other mother, even though she is my own daughter.
However, there is time to get a reply before you would have to start, so I will write and see what can be done."
The dear old lady, with her prompt businesslike propensities, sat down and wrote there and then. I wrote also--pleaded with my mother against her decree, begged her to leave me at Caddagat, and a.s.sured her I could never succeed at M"Swat"s.
I did not sleep that night, so arose betimes to await the first traveller, whom I asked to post the letters.
We got an answer to them sooner than we expected--at least grannie did.
Mother did not deign to write to me, but in her letter to grannie I was described as an abominably selfish creature, who would not consider her little brothers and sisters. I would never be any good; all I thought of was idleness and ease. Most decidedly I could not get out of going to M"Swat"s, as mother had given her word.
"I am sorry for you," said grannie, "but it cannot be helped. You can stay there for two or three years, and then I can have you here again."
I was inconsolable, and would not listen to reason. Ah! that uncle Jay-Jay had been at home to rescue me from this. Then aunt Helen brought her arguments to bear upon me, and persuaded me to think it was necessary for the benefit of my little brothers and sisters that I should take up this burden, which I knew would be too much for me.
It was a great wrench to be torn away from Caddagat--from refinement and comfort--from home! As the days till my departure melted away, how I wished that it were possible to set one"s weight against the grim wheel of time and turn it back! Nights I did not sleep, but drenched my pillow with tears. Ah, it was hard to leave grannie and aunt Helen, whom I worshipped, and turn my back on Caddagat!
I suppose it is only a fancy born of the wild deep love I bear it, but to me the flowers seem to smell more sweetly there; and the shadows, how they creep and curl! oh, so softly and caressingly around the quaint old place, as the great sun sets amid the blue peaks; and the never-ceasing rush of the crystal fern-banked stream--I see and hear it now, and the sinking sun as it turns to a sheet of flame the mirror hanging in the backyard in the laundry veranda, before which the station hands were wont to comb and wash themselves. Oh, the memories that crowd upon me!
Methinks I can smell the roses that clamber up the veranda posts and peep over the garden gate. As I write my eyes grow misty, so that I cannot see the paper.
The day for my departure arrived--hot, 110 degrees in the shade. It was a Wednesday afternoon. Frank Hawden was to take me as far as Gool-Gool that evening, and see me on to the coach next day. I would arrive in Yarnung about twelve or one o"clock on Thursday night, where, according to arrangement, Mr M"Swat would be waiting to take me to a hotel, thence to his home next day.
My trunks and other belongings were stowed in the buggy, to which the fat horses were harnessed. They stood beneath the dense shade of a splendid kurrajong, and lazily flicked the flies off themselves while Frank Hawden held the reins and waited for me.
I rushed frantically round the house taking a last look at nooks and pictures dear to me, and then aunt Helen pressed my hand and kissed me, saying:
"The house will be lonely without you, but you must brighten up, and I"m sure you will not find things half as bad as you expect them."
I looked back as I went out the front gate, and saw her throw herself into a chair on the veranda and cover her face with her hands. My beautiful n.o.ble aunt Helen! I hope she missed me just a little, felt just one pang of parting, for I have not got over that parting yet.
Grannie gave me a warm embrace and many kisses. I climbed on to the front seat of the buggy beside my escort, he whipped the horses--a cloud of dust, a whirr of wheels, and we were gone--gone from Caddagat!
We crossed the singing stream: on either bank great bushes of blackthorn--last native flower of the season--put forth their wealth of magnificent creamy bloom, its rich perfume floating far on the hot summer air. How the sunlight blazed and danced and flickered on the familiar and dearly loved landscape! Over a rise, and the house was lost to view, then good-bye to the crystal creek. The trees of Five-Bob Downs came within eye-range far away on our left. What merry nights I had spent there amid music, flowers, youth, light, love, and summer warmth, when the tide of life seemed full! Where now was Harold Beecham and the thirty or more station hands, who but one short month before had come and gone at his bidding, hailing him boss?
It was all over! My pleasant life at Caddagat was going into the past, fading as the hills which surrounded it were melting into a hazy line of blue.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
My Journey
The coach was a big vehicle, something after the style of a bus, the tilt and seats running parallel with the wheels. At the rear end, instead of a door, was a great tail-board, on the principle of a spring-cart. This was let down, and, after we scrambled over it into our seats, it was fixed half-mast, all the luggage piled thereon, and firmly roped into position. When this was completed, to any one on the ground only the heads of pa.s.sengers were visible above the pile. Had the coach capsized we would have been in a nice fix, as the only means of exit was by crawling up through the back of the box-seat, which rose breast-high--an awkward feat.
Frank Hawden and I parted good friends. I leant out and waved my handkerchief, until a bend of the road hid him from sight.
It was noon, the thermometer registered 112 degrees in the shade, and the dust was simply awful. It rose in such thick grey clouds that often it was impossible to discern the team of five which pulled us, and there was danger of colliding with pa.s.sing vehicles. We were very much crowded, there being sixteen pa.s.sengers. When we settled down and got started, I discovered that I was the only representative of my s.e.x, and that I was sandwiched between a perky youth in his teens and a Chinaman, while a black fellow and a man with a red beard sat opposite. A member of Parliament, farther up the seat, who had been patronizing New Year"s Day races in a portion of his electorate, bawled loudly to his companion about "the doin"s of the "Ouse". In the perky youth I discovered a professional jockey; and when he found that I was a daughter of d.i.c.k Melvyn, the one-time great horse-breeder, he became very friendly. He gave me a couple of apples out of his tin box under the seat, from whence he also produced his whip for my inspection, and was good enough to say:
"If you can"t stand the stink of that bloomin" chow, miss, just change seats with me. I"ve knocked about, so that I can easy stand some tough smells without much inconvenience."
I cautioned him to talk lower for fear of hurting the Chinaman"s feelings: this amused him immensely. He laughed very much, and, leaning over to the red-bearded man, repeated the joke:
"I say, this young lady is afraid I might hurt the chow"s feelin"s.
Golly! Fancy a bloomin" chow havin" any!"
The other man also thought it a great joke. I changed seats with the jockey, which put me beside a young gentleman of a literary turn of mind, with whom I had some conversation about books when the dust, rumble of wheels, and turf talk of my other neighbour permitted. They were all very kind to me--gave me fruit, procured me drinks of water, and took turns in nursing a precious hat, for which, on account of the crush, no safe place could be found among the other luggage.
Before we had gone half our journey the horses knocked up. All the men were forced to walk up hills for miles and miles in the dust and heat, which did not conduce to their amiability, and many and caustic were the remarks and jokes made upon the driver. He wore out two whips upon his team, until the labour and excessive heat sent the perspiration rolling in rivulets down his face, leaving muddy tracks in the thick coating of dust there. The jockey a.s.sisted with his loaded instrument of trade, some of the pa.s.sengers thrashed with sticks, and all swore under their breath, while a pa.s.sing bullock-driver used his whip with such deadly effect, that the sweat which poured off the poor beasts was mingled with blood.
"Why the deuce don"t you have proper horses?" demanded the red-bearded pa.s.senger.
The man explained that a ministerial party had chartered his best team to go on a tour of inspection to a mine; a brother coachman had been "stuck up" for horses, and borrowed a couple from him, whereupon he was forced to do with animals which had been turned out for a spell, and the heat and overloading accounted for a good part of the contretemps.
However, we managed to catch our train, but had to rush for it without waiting for refreshments. Nice articles we looked--our hair grey with dust, and our faces grimy. The men took charge of me as carefully as though I had been specially consigned to their care. One procured my ticket, another secured me a seat, while a third took charge of my luggage; and they were just as thoughtful when we had to change trains.
Off we went. Grannie had packed me quite a large box full of dainties. I produced it, the men provided drinks, and we had quite a pleasant picnic, with all the windows down to catch a little air.
I love the rush and roar of the train, and wished on this occasion that it might go on and on for over, never giving me time to think or stop.
But, alas, at 1.20 we pulled up at Yarnung, where a man came inquiring for a young lady named Melvyn. My fellow pa.s.sengers collected my belongings, and I got out.
"Good-bye, gentlemen; thank you very much for your kindness."
"Good-bye, miss; you"re welcome. Some of us might meet again yet.
Ta-ta!"
A shriek, a jerk, and the great train rushed on into the night, leaving me there on the insignificant little platform, feeling how lonely and unhappy, no one knew or cared.
Mr M"Swat shouldered most of my luggage, I took the remainder, and we trudged off in the dark without a word on either side. The publican had given M"Swat the key, so that we might enter without disturbing the household, and he escorted me to a bedroom, where I tumbled into bed with expedition.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
To Life
It is indelibly imprinted on my memory in a manner which royal joy, fame, pleasure, and excitement beyond the dream of poets could never efface, not though I should be cursed with a life of five-score years. I will paint it truthfully--letter for letter as it was.
It was twenty-six miles from Yarnung to Barney"s Gap, as M"Swat"s place was named. He had brought a light wagonette and pair to convey me thither.
As we drove along, I quite liked my master. Of course, we were of calibre too totally unlike ever to be congenial companions, but I appreciated his sound common sense in the little matters within his range, and his bluntly straightforward, fairly good-natured, manner. He was an utterly ignorant man, with small ideas according to the sphere which he fitted, and which fitted him; but he was "a man for a" that, an" a" that".
He and my father had been boys together. Years and years ago M"Swat"s father had been blacksmith on my father"s station, and the little boys had played together, and, in spite of their then difference in station, had formed a friendship which lived and bore fruit at this hour. I wished that their youthful relations had been inimical, not friendly.
We left the pub in Yarnung at nine, and arrived at our destination somewhere about two o"clock in the afternoon.
I had waxed quite cheerful, and began to look upon the situation in a sensible light. It was necessary that I should stand up to the guns of life at one time or another, and why not now? M"Swat"s might not be so bad after all. Even if they were dirty, they would surely be willing to improve if I exercised tact in introducing a few measures. I was not afraid of work, and would do many things. But all these ideas were knocked on the head, like a dairyman"s surplus calves, when on entering Barney"s Gap we descended a rough road to the house, which was built in a narrow gully between two steep stony hills, which, dest.i.tute of gra.s.s, rose like grim walls of rock, imparting a desolate and prison-like aspect.