However, I soon learned the kind of despatches he meant. He wanted me to despatch "Thunder-and-Lightning" to Queer Street, or be despatched myself to the Golden Street of the New Jerusalem. It did not seem to me that he cared very much whether we were both despatched, so long as he made sure of "Thunder-and-Lightning."
I braced myself up when I had taken bearings, and looked steadily at the Governor. I declare, I thought I saw in one eye Nelson's motto, "England expects every man to do his duty," and in the other eye the words of Burns' song, "Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled."
I felt equal to anything then, and said, "Your Excellency, I pledge you my solemn word I'll produce the body of 'Thunder-and-Lightning,' dead or alive, within three months."
"I am glad to hear you say so, detective," he said; "and what is more, I believe you."
He pulled out of his pocket a sheet of foolscap, which gave a full description, in his own writing, of the bushranger, his friends and haunts. Then he showed me the drawing of a house in Collingwood, which had been sent to him, with the information that it was the exact outline of a place "Thunder-and-Lightning" was coming to, out of bravado, in a few days.
I looked at the drawing believing I would recognise it, for I prided myself on knowing every house frequented by disreputable characters in Melbourne, and I had daguerreotyped them on my brain.
"I know this house!" I said.
"I see my confidence in you is not misplaced; good morning. The watchword is 'Down.'"
I saw I was dismissed, so I said, "Good morning, your Excellency," and went away.
I felt much elated thus to be singled out for such an important duty, and determined to do or die.