"Halloo! Charley," cried Edward, riding up to shake hands with his brother, "my good fellow, what have you been about, and what in the world has induced you to bring the prisoners with you?" and he looked with suspicion and annoyance at the large party of distressed and ragged followers, who had purposely turned away from him. At last Margaret looked round and smiled, and the delighted young fellow laughed with joy at seeing his old friends, and with amusement at their miserable condition.
"My dear Margaret! my good friends!" he exclaimed, "I am quite wild with surprise and pleasure. Never mind your ragged furbelows; little Emma is a capital needlewoman, and will sew up all those great rents."
"It will be a great blessing to me," said Margaret, laughing, "to see a needle again."
"A needle, Margaret!" exclaimed Charles, "we have millions of needles; Edward has a storehouse crammed with every thing that everybody can want, under every circumstance. He could supply a large English country town with goods; chests of needles, walls built up of paper, acres of that muslin stuff you wear, so suitable to the thorny bush. Ask for what you will, you can have it at Edward's grand bazaar."
"If you please, Mr. Charles," said Jack, "do you think Mr. Edward has any tools?"
"You have only to speak, Jack," answered he; "we can supply you with the appliances of the arts, from a steam-engine to a delicate lancet. I am a clever shopman, and shall be happy to do the honors of the bazaar."
"Indeed, Charles, you are a very troublesome and disorderly shopman," said his brother, "as my store-keeper declares, creating vast confusion among his neatly-arranged shelves. Allowing for some exaggeration, my dear friends, Charles has told you the fact. I found my poor people had to pay so extravagantly for the little luxuries and necessaries of life they required, either from the extortions of itinerant dealers, who are dangerous visitors to admit into a settlement, or from the expense of journeys to Sydney or Melbourne to make their purchases, that I resolved to supply them at moderate prices myself, which I am enabled to do by bringing wagon-loads of goods from Sydney, and furnishing a large storehouse which I had built for the purpose."
"But are you not afraid of the bush-rangers being attracted by your valuable storehouse?" asked Mr. Mayburn.
"I have a clever-managing store-keeper, who, with his assistant, sleeps in the place, where they have arms, two fierce dogs, and an alarm-bell loud enough to rouse the whole hamlet. Besides, our bush-rangers prefer highway robbery, or raids on the cattle, to the more dangerous attempts at house-breaking. You need fear no bush-rangers, my dear Mr. Mayburn, if you were once within the walls of my castle, where I trust to welcome you speedily. Now I wish you to look at the beautiful variety of timber trees which I have left standing as ornaments to my spacious park."
It was amongst these varied and extraordinary trees that the cavalcade were now passing. Several varieties of the Eucalyptus and the palm tribe, with their bare tall trunks and crested heads, were mingled with white or golden-blossomed acacias; the Hibiscus, peculiar to Australia; the drooping grass-tree; and one spreading fig-tree stood like a natural temple, with its pillar-like roots entwined with elegant creeping plants, with a grace beyond the reach of art. Beneath these trees the turf was resplendent with spring flowers, on which were quietly grazing flocks of white sheep, supplying the place of the aristocratic deer. As they issued from the woodland upon a grassy glade, sloping gently to the banks of the river, Charles rode forward to announce the glad tidings at Daisy Grange, which was now in sight on a pretty eminence, backed by higher hills, which stretched beyond into gray mountains. As they rode slowly forward on their worn-out horses, Mr. Mayburn was lost in admiration of the curious and happily-blended trees, and Edward Deverell said,—