With hands close clenched behind him he stood. The love he fancied he had stifled had burst through the restraint he had placed upon it; the injury she had inflicted upon him, the wrong she had done, the cause for resentment she had given him were alike forgotten. The lingering suspicion alone prevented him from taking her in his arms to soothe and comfort her in her distress. Fighting against himself he stood silent, and the woman, aching for someone on whom to lean, shivered.
"What am I to do?" she moaned. "What am I to do?"
He, thinking only of her, took the words to refer to her present difficulty.
"I think it would be better if you went away," he said gently. "I do not think it will be easier for you to bear if you are here when--should anything else come to light."
"You mean if--if he is arrested?"
"Yes."
She lifted up her head and turned a tear-stained face towards him.
"Have they found him? Have they? Is that why--why I am asked to leave the house?"
"No, Mrs. Eustace. A new manager will be appointed, and the house is wanted for him."
"But I will not leave Waroona," she exclaimed, as she stood up. "I dare not leave it--till I know. If he--suppose he did do it--and wants to find me?"
"I should advise you to go right away," Harding said, still speaking gently. "You will do no good by remaining here where everybody knows what has happened, whereas if you go away you will be able to put all the worry of it away from you."
"I will not go."
She spoke with a fierce emphasis, the more p.r.o.nounced because she felt that the course he suggested was the one she ought to follow, and resenting it because, by following it, she would pa.s.s out of his sight, and perchance out of his life for all time.
"I can only advise you," he said. "The new manager may be here in a day or two, and the bank will----"
"Oh, I"m not going to stay in this house," she interrupted. "I will be out of here to-morrow; but I will not leave Waroona."
"You will make a mistake if you do not, I think, but it is for you to decide."
She sat down again, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap.
"If I go--will you--will you write to me?"
"No, I cannot do that," he answered at once.
"May I--write to you?"
"I should be sorry if you did."
She raised her eyes and again looked at him steadily in silence, looked until he turned away.
"How hard you make it, how hard!" she said at length. "How am I to know what is happening if I go away? I am sure you are expecting his arrest.
Why did those two troopers go off so mysteriously this afternoon? They did not go to the railway. I watched them from upstairs. They rode the other way."
He did not reply.
"Will you answer me this one question? Do you believe I know he is the thief?"
"If there is anything that I can do to help or a.s.sist you in your present difficulty, Mrs. Eustace, I shall be only too pleased to do it.
But I cannot discuss the robbery with you."
For the first time there was a tone of sternness in his voice.
"Then I take it that you do," she said. "I only want to tell you this. I still do not believe he did it. I know he is--he is not as you are. I have tried to shield this from you. I did not want you to know--then.
Now I have told you. I did not know he was going to run away. I did not know he had gone until Brennan came to arrest him. But I can understand why he went. He knew the bank would suspect him at once, knew that there was a black record against him. It was cowardly of him, cowardly to leave me here alone. But he has gone, and I do not think I shall ever hear from him or see him again. That is why I want to remain here. If I go away, I may never know; if I am here, I shall be able to find out.
But don"t think that I know either that he intended to run away or where he has gone. At least have that much faith in me."
"I did think so," he said quickly. "Now I do not."
"Thank you," she said softly. "I know how difficult it is for you to say even that. You cannot discuss the matter, but--don"t think harder of me, Fred, than you can help."
She turned quickly and hurried from the room. She had scarcely closed the door when she reopened it.
"Constable Brennan is asking for you," she said. "Will you go in?"
She pushed the door wide open and Brennan came forward.
"Is Mr. Wallace here?" he asked, as soon as he had seen the door close.
"He has gone to bed--he is rather tired out after his journey. Is it anything particular?"
"One of the troopers has just ridden back. When they reached Taloona they found the place on fire. The sub-inspector was outside with his head smashed, and Mr. Dudgeon, with a bullet through him and his hands handcuffed behind his back, lying on the floor of the hut. They saw the glare of the fire through the trees and only galloped up just in time to get the old man out. He"s in a bad way, Conlon said, and so is the sub-inspector."
"Wait till I tell Mr. Wallace," Harding exclaimed, as he rushed from the room.
Outside in the pa.s.sage, Mrs. Eustace faced him.
"Fred, what is it? I heard--who is killed?"
"n.o.body, I hope. I"ll be back in a moment."
He dashed up to Wallace"s room and hammered at the door.
"Hullo, what"s the matter now?" Wallace cried, as he answered the knock.
"Come down to the dining-room. Brennan is there. One of the troopers has come back. Taloona is burnt and both Dudgeon and Durham injured."
When they reached the dining-room they found Mrs. Eustace with Brennan.
"I can be of use. I know how to nurse. I"ve learned how to give first aid. Let me go out and attend to them till the doctor comes. He is twenty miles away, and they may bleed to death before he can get there.
I"ve got some bandages. I"ll fetch them," Mrs. Eustace was saying.
She turned as Wallace and Harding entered.
"Tell them, Brennan, while I get the things," she added as she ran out and upstairs.