"I don't know how much you know of what has happened to us. Murri may have told you if he got off. If you know nothing prepare yourself for a great trouble. We had almost got home last night when we were set on by bushrangers and (I don't know how to tell you, it is so terrible) Geordie, when I was away from him for a minute, was thrown from his horse and killed. I feel as though it were my fault, though I don't think I could have helped it if I had been close by. I am just heartbroken, and if it were not for you and Maggie I should not care if I never came back. You are all I have now. Crosby says I must make haste; he is a fellow here who is helping me. I am kept by Starlight at a place called Norton's Gap, which lies south of the Dixieville road, directly after you have passed Badger's Creek. Crosby says ask for Lingan's. This place is close to Lingan's. Let Macleod, or some one, be on the path between the Dixieville road and Lingan's to-morrow night at eleven to try and arrange things. Crosby will be there. He is a big, handsome fellow, with a yellow beard and hair, and clear blue eyes. You will easily know him."
Ah! Margaret, Margaret, what makes you start in that way? You would blush if any one were looking at you now; as it is, you grow pale.
"Let the police at Bateman know where Starlight is; they will be here soon enough then. This is the last bit of paper I have got. I myself am quite well and unhurt. Would it were Geordie instead. He was worth a dozen of me. If you have not found him he is lying by that split gum we burnt, just beyond the Dip. I killed the man that knocked Geordie off his horse. Don't agree to any ransom for me. Crosby says Starlight will try it on.
Alec."
All the last few lines were so cramped and crowded together that Margaret could hardly make their meaning out. But she did at last, and letting her hands, still holding the letter, sink idly into her lap, she stayed where she was without moving and deep in thought. It was the clattering of horses into the yard that made her look up, and the next instant Yesslett dashed into the kitchen.
"How is he now, Mrs. Beffling?" he whispered, as though his voice would disturb Geordie at the other end of the house. "What did the—oh, Margaret, I didn't see you. What did the doctor say? How long was he here?"
"He got here at seven, just after you and Balchin started out with Murri and Baluderree. He says it was concussion of the brain, but that if we keep him quite quiet he will soon get all right. It was the greatest wonder, he says, that he was not killed straight off."
"Has he gone?"
"Yes, he has told mother what to do, and he has been gone half an hour. Macleod has gone with him to tell the police all about it, and to make them try to find Alec, but we don't know whether they are at Bateman or Parra-parra."
"Ah! poor old Alec, we shall have to think about him now that Geordie is going on all right. If we only knew where he was we wouldn't wait for the police. We can't trace them, Margaret, beyond the Dixieville road. Murri and that other black boy from the camp easily tracked them that far, and then we lost them; a mob of cattle had passed along early this morning or last night and trampled out every hoof mark."